18 June 2015 (Thursday) - On Mars
After yet another evening spent mostly asleep on the sofa I had an early night.I slept reasonably well despite a few nightmares about what might have been in a previous life. I was again wide awake before 6am (and feeling rough). My little dog was awake this morning and very thirsty. I don't think we shall allow him too many gammon bones in future; they are too salty for him.
Over brekkie we (me and pup) both watched "Secret Diary of a Call Girl". On the one had Billie Piper's stunt double isn't averse to flopping "them" out. On the other hand does fifty per cent of the dialogue really have to be the "F" word?
I then had a look on-line. I had a Facebook friend request from Joan Carbon. "Joan Carbon" (if that is her real name) would seem to live in the Philippinnes and from what I saw it doesn't look as though English is her principle language. Much as I dislike being anti-social (even though I'm a mardy old git) I've already got enough people I don't know on my Facebook list. With absolutely no connection at all to "Joan Carbon" I gave her request the thumbs down.
I had a look at the Facebook Event page for the weekend's astro club stall. After my little rant I see that I prompted a total of six people to respond and answer the invitation. However the "plum" who lives in Spain who says he will come has not removed his "will attend". I remember this twit; he said he was coming to something I once organised and when I messaged him to assign him some duties on that event he said he never goes to any Facebook Event; but he always clicks the "will attend" to show his support (!)
This morning's installment of total nonsense from MessageToEagle dot com was rather entertaining. Today they were punting the theory that there was once two races of ancient Martians (on Mars) both with a level of technology consistent with that in ancient Egypt who managed to obliterate themselves in a nuclear war.
Now I'm no historian, and much as I admire the Pyramids, I don't think the Pharoahs has atomic weapons. I can vaguely remember something about at Illudium Q-36 Explosive Space Modulators on Mars, but (as always) I am in thrall to the superior wisdom of the crackpot fringe.
I took "Furry Face TM" for a walk. Beaver Road was rather congested. There is a barrier up the road which only opens for buses, taxis and emergency vehicles. A juggernaut was trying and failing to get through much to the consternation of all the taxis queueing behind.
We walked on through the park past the Ghurka who was doing press-up on the park bench until we saw OrangeHead's dog. But no OrangeHead. The dog was under the supervision of a rather foxy-looking hippie. "Daughter of OrangeHead" perhaps?
With a couple of hours before I was due on duty I set off to Folkestone. I had birthday pressies to deliver and was under orders to bring milk.
The radio reception was a little better as I drove today and Christians were in the news. Starving Iraqui refugees have been supplied with Bibles. I would have thought the money would have been better spent on food. I can't help but cynically wonder how tasty a Bible might be. Closer to home a supposedly Christian person is ruthlessly haranging his neighbour because their garden lanterns are too gay for an area in which children abound. Having been an active Christian myself once, I find myself looking back at the stark nonsense I once espouced. At the time it seemed quite sensible.
That is the trouble with religion...
I got to Folkestone; littlun was well. As well as pulling himself up and being very mobile, he's learned how to kiss, and he kissed his old Grandad.
I spent half an hour with him and his mum putting the world to rights before setting off to work.
I've seen a dozen or so geocaches marked on the geo-map between Folkestone and work, and when on the late shifts I've taken to picking off the odd one before work. It's something to do on an otherwise dull journey. Today's target cache was in Barham and was one I'd had my eye on for a little while. The previous logs read as though previous finders had destroyed the thing beyond redemption. The most recent maintenance log would lead one to beleive the geo-feds had actually been out to give the thing their regal seal of approval (something they do *not* do).
I went along and... what can I say? It's a small geocache; a good hide, but not one I hadn't seen before. Co-ords were about three to five yards out; but realistically that's about as good as you're ever going to get. It took me a few minutes to locate it; I did the secret geo-ritual known only to the select few, and then carried on to work.
And as is usually the case when on the late shift, my day was effectively done by mid day...