7 December 2010 (Tuesday) - Blackadder

I was up at silly o’clock this morning, watching the Xmas edition of “Porridge” whilst doing my ironing. My ironing and everyone else’s too. And then to work where the day was much the same as ever. Which was probably for the best.
And then home to more ironing. This evening the tribes gathered at Chip’s house where I acquired a fridge, and we watched the Xmas edition of Blackadder. I’d forgotten how good that episode was.

It was quite late before I got round to checking my emails this evening. There was a missive from the astro club – there’s a talk by a British astronaut in a few week’s time in Cranbrook. I may well go along to that. And then I had a quick surf of the Internet.

In previous years I’ve spent a lot of time and effort on the Beer in the Evening website. I’ve rather gone off this website recently. Here’s an example of why. They run an ever-updating top twenty pubs, based on the ever changing recommendations of subscribers to the website. The pub which was number twenty on that list this evening is a relatively local one, and one I’ve never been to. I could get there in less than an hour from my house on public transport. In fact, if any of my loyal readers fancy a trip to Canterbury over the Xmas break, do let me know and we’ll check the place out.
But I digress. This pub is ranked twentieth on a list which is being constantly updated. In the last six months this place has only garnered five reviews; the most recent of those being in August. The pub in twentieth place on the rankings last night has had thirteen reviews in the same time period. And my current favourite London pub has had dozens of reviews in the same time period. Or take this place for example. There’s a review of the place in August when the place was third in the list, having only had two reviews all year.

Talking of beer, I know the stuff has only been in the barrel for a day or so, but I’ve had a crafty sip of my second batch of stout. It’s already drinkable, and it’s rather good, even if I do say so myself. Which now gives me something of a dilemma. Will it last out the three weeks until Xmas? Let’s hope so.

Meanwhile it would seem I’m not the only one with a problematical neighbour. Having been told to get stuffed, “her next door” (and the cat) have got a keyboard and are constantly playing “I wish it could be a wombling merry Christmas every day” at full volume. They are now on their three hundred and forty eighth rendition.
It can only be a matter of time until Frosty’s nerves snap…

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