Worse things happen at sea

I was dining with a well-known vendor last week and one executive kept our party amused with bawdy tales of his pre-IT days.

The chap spent a number of years in the Navy before he could no longer resist the excitement and intrigue of the tech industry. One of his seafaring anecdotes found him and some buddies three sheets to the wind in a major US city. Then came that all too familiar realisation: "We'll never find our ship from here!" (We've all been there.)

Thankfully, the visiting Naval contingent had established a rapport with the local Police department, (something about a drinks reception), and my pal was able to cadge a lift from a passing squad car.

Great stuff, but who needs globetrotting high jinks when you've got cloud computing, voice over IP and rack-mounted servers? It's a techie's life for me, Dear Reader.

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The very same soirée threw up altogether darker revelations from the past of another vendor exec.

Another of my dining buddies confessed the part he played in launching a monstrous affliction on humanity.

The chap revealed that he was a member of the team responsible for bringing The Crazy Frog to these shores. Remembering Dave Jnr's obsession with the annoying little blighter, I told him he had a lot to answer for.

As luck would have it, my new buddy lives not far from me in sunny east London. I'll make sure to personally pass on any messages you may have.