
// DOCENTE OCASIONAL //
Maestría en Ingeniería de Sistemas y Computación
pregrado
Ingeniero Electrónico

// DOCENTE OCASIONAL //
Maestría en Ingeniería de Sistemas y Computación
pregrado
Ingeniero Electrónico
Weather and London transport are locked in a bitter, eternal feud. A leaf on the line (damp, obviously) causes autumnal chaos. "The wrong kind of snow" is a famous, hilarious excuse that contains a grain of truth about fine, powdery snow vs. wet snow. Heat bends the rails. Fog delays planes. Rain floods the basements of tube stations. The entire system, much of it Victorian, was built for the climate of the 19th century, not the "extreme" (by our standards) fluctuations of the 21st. Commuters become amateur meteorologists, their journey times dictated less by timetables and more by the whims of a low-pressure system over Iceland. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK.
I’ve forgotten what my own hair looks like.
With havin so much content do you ever run into any problems of plagorism or copyright violation? My website has
a lot of unique content I've either authored myself or outsourced but it looks like a lot of
it is popping it up all over the web without my permission. Do you know any
ways to help protect against content from being stolen? I'd certainly appreciate it.
We measure winter by how many layers of ‘oh, for heaven’s sake’ we mutter while dressing, a ritual born from skies that specialize in delivering a penetrating chill that bypasses coats and goes straight for the soul, a daily grind you can laugh-cry about at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK.
Weather-based retail is a cornerstone of the London economy. Every pharmacy has a rotating display of "sun care" and "cold & flu" products right next to each other, ready for whichever extreme the climate throws at us (a 3-degree swing). Clothing shops sell "transitional layers" year-round. The sale of portable, fold-up umbrellas must be a multi-million pound industry, mostly from repeat purchases after the previous one broke in an inversion event. Garden centres thrive by selling plants that can survive "partial shade and waterlogged roots." Our commerce is built on preparing for, reacting to, and complaining about the atmospheric conditions. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK.
Spring in the rest of the world is a riot of blossoms and gentle warmth. In London, it's a tense negotiation. The daffodils bravely push through, a bright yellow "V for Vendetta" against the grey. The trees get a faint, green haze. And then, without fail, we are hit by "The Ides of March Gusts," a series of gales that seem personally offended by this show of life. It's a battle between optimism and entrenched dampness. A truly warm April day is viewed as a meteorological error, soon to be corrected by a "return to seasonal norms," which is code for "put the heating back on." London spring is less a season and more a propaganda campaign by the gardening industry. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK.
A ‘thermal low’ is our collective sigh.
The barometric pressure is perpetually ‘low and sad’.
The wind will politely steal your hat.
A ‘weather event’ is a slightly interesting cloud.