I was quietly messing around on the Interweb last night and decided to check to see if there were any updates for Roger, my SatNav.

I went into the site, and sure enough, there were.  “Grand” says I to myself, and connected Roger up to the system.  I pressed the little buttons and sat back.

Fuck!

“This download will take approximately five hours”.

It was late, so I watched it count down from five hours to five and a half hours and decided it was time for bed, as I wasn’t going to hang around until six in the morning for Roger, or anyone.  I left the laptop on and buggered off.

I got up this morning and remembered my little download.  I checked the laptop – time remaining: 2:45.  What the fuck?  The damned thing had stuck somewhere, so I refreshed it.  The shagging thing promptly told me I had already downloaded the latest file!  I sighed, took a couple of Prozac and went back to the very start.  I went through the whole process again, and it now told me that if I really wanted to, I could download the file again.  All 3.5 fucking Gb of it.  I said OK, and at least it had the sense to kick off from where it left off. 

Two hours later, it finished, and asked me if I wanted to install it.  Fucking stupid question!  I gave it the OK, and it promptly told me there was an error somewhere, but wouldn’t tell me where.

Five more Prozac later, I told the whole fucking system to go take a running jump.  Then I happened to find a new file in my download area, that told me it was the installation I was looking for.  Weird.  I told it to run.

It did sweet fuck all for about half an hour.  I knew something was going on because the little egg-timer thingy kept spinning around and annoying me.

Suddenly, without warning, it kicked in and started installing the updates.  Wow!  It took quite a while, but eventually I got a little message congratulating me [I fucking needed congratulating at this stage], and telling me that Roger was now up to date.

I brought Roger into the garden to try him out.  For some reason, there aren’t any satellites in the house, so I always have to test him outside.

The fucking thing looks exactly as it always did.  Nothing new.  No exciting new motorways running through my garden.  As usual, it told me I was in my next door neighbour’s garden, when I knew damned well I wasn’t.

I hope Roger is happy.  I’m sure he will continue to mispronounce words as he always has done.  I’m sure he will continue to direct me off roads and into fields. 

Fucking technology.

Now I have to find a way to stop the little sucker thingy that holds Roger to the windscreen, from coming unstuck all the time and falling on the car floor.

It’s not easy driving while reading a map on the floor.