6 January 2011 (Thursday) - More Stuff

A late start, so I had a bit of a lie-in. I awoke to find an empty house, and the parrot was surprisingly quiet. I wondered if she was asleep – I didn’t want to wake her, so I got some brekkie and wandered to my PC where I did some accounts (still skint), and let my blood pressure go through the roof.
One of the advantages of living where I do is that we’ve got an excellent travel network. The trains leave town in five different directions, and there’s a motorway too. The motorway has the occasional (almost weekly) hiccup though. Whenever the cross channel ferries aren’t running, the freight lorries can’t get to the continent, and so the local police close the local motorway and use it as somewhere to park the lorries which are waiting to get to France. Sometimes these queues of lorries are over five miles long, all parked, going nowhere, and staying put for days.
On reading this, most people would think that such an occurrence would be rare, very rare. In practice the ferries cease operations with amazing regularity, sometimes seemingly on a weekly basis. And when they shut up shop, so the motorway is closed too. For many years it has been suggested that a purpose-built staging area be built to house lorries waiting to cross the channel. Today the Government announces it will not fund this project. The solution is simple. Bill the French. After all, the port closures are usually due to them being on strike anyway.
Meanwhile a pointless government quango is doing it’s best to waste a million pounds of public cash to ensure it will have still funds to waste in the future.

I then did a bit of research. It’s my birthday in a few weeks time. And every year I like to do something for my birthday, but I struggle to find what I might do. Those few attractions which are open are oh-so-cold in February. On the NHS discounts website I fund I could get a 45% reduction on the price of a trip to Legoland. Now at first sight that looks like quite a bargain, but I still begrudge paying over twenty quid to go to Legoland, By the time I’ve shelled out to park my car I’d be looking at paying the best part of forty quid, and even then I’d be lonely. I can only get the bargain for me, and I doubt anyone else is going to fork out forty quid for the non-discounted ticket. I suppose the people at Legoland know what they are doing – they must be getting enough punters through the door at forty quid each, or they wouldn’t charge so much. But I’m not paying that price. What price would I pay? In all honesty – no more than a tenner.

And then the phone rang. Someone claiming to be called “Hector Grey” phoned claiming to be representing “Burnhill investments”. He said I shouldn’t worry – he wasn’t trying to sell me anything. He was merely letting me know that his company would be writing to me to let me know about the credit crunch and how it had affected land values. He obviously had a script to work to, and really didn’t like me asking questions. I gave him two minutes, and when I eventually got the spelling of his name and company out of him, I told him that seeing how he could not pronounce either his name of the company that employed him, I didn’t really want to have anything to do with his company. He had no idea what I was talking about, and tried to continue with his speech. I hung up.

Meanwhile “Daddies Little Angel TMdesperately needs empty cigarette packets for her friends college project. If any of my loyal readers can save empties even from friends and family for me it would be greatly appreciated :o)

No comments:

Post a Comment