24 March 2015 (Tuesday) - A Smack in the Gob

I woke at 1.30am this morning following a rather vivid dream in which the river Exe (in Devon?) was about to flood the world. For no explicable reason only I could save humanity by somehow creating a huge milk churn out of the contents of the local branch of Curry's. It's amazing how shook up I was by this; I didn't get back to sleep properly after that shock, and dozed fitfully until brekkie time.
I blame the trauma of being left "Home Alone" and unsupervised.
Over brekkie I watched another episode of "Dad's Army" in which they didn't like it up 'em. As I watched I fed half my toast do my dog; completely forgetting that he's supposed to be on a diet.

I was on the early shift today; as I drove the pundits on the radio were lambasting the Prime Minister. In a recent interview the chap has said that should he win the upcoming election he'd be pleased with the result, but he has no intentions of trying for a third term in office. Personally I think that's a sensible decicion; however those who make the news have seen this as a golden opportunity to start speculation about his successor some five years preamturely. And an inordinate amount of air-time was wasted on the subject.
There was also mention about money being allocated to the University of Nottingham solve some of the most famous mathematical problems of our time.
One of the problems they are trying to sort out is to prove or disprove the Riemann hypothesis. I can remember having the matter explained to me as a maths undergraduate and I couldn't make head or tail of the matter. As I recall it had something to do with integration.
I respect and admired those who have an inkling of what it is all about. But (as usual) the presenters on the radio tried to make fun of the subject in an unconvincing attempt to cover their own ignorance. Why do they always ridicule anything they don't understand?

I got to work; I did what I had to, and at lunch time I had an amazingly successful sax session. I'm perhaps a little piccolo on my vibrissimo, but my "Moon River" is every bit as sexy as the current TV ad for chocolate.

An early start made for an early finish. I came home and ran "Furry Face TM" round the park where he expressed his physical love for a poodle. The poodle in question was a boy poodle; my dog was clearly never confused.
Being a Tuesday the clans gathered; this time without me. Several restless nights have taken their toll; being out late wouldn't be a good idea today... I had an early night instead.

And in other news "Daddies Little Angel TM" has been bashed up off of a seagull. The feathered fiend swooped from nowhere, slapped her firmly in the mouth with its wing, and made off with her cheeseburger. Personally I think it is hilarious, but she is distraught, and apparently in quite a bit of pain too.
It would seem that getting bashed up off of a seagull is akin to all of life's other misfortunes; only funny when happening to someone else.

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