4 July 2015 (Saturday) - Being Grumpy
I slept well despite another hot night. Over brekkie I checked out social media and (as it so often does) my piss boiled. Having struggled to understand what several people were writing about (on such diverse topics as immigration and thunderstorms), on a couple of utterly unrelated websites (geo-photography and small dogs) I thhen found whinges about how people should be more tolerant of poor grammar and spelling in social media.
Whinges like that annoy me. Bad spelling is bad enough; it shows people can't spell and can't be bothered to press the F7 button. But when people's posts are simply incomprehensible I can't help but wonder why they posted anything on social media in the first place. Is it *really* that hard to re-read what you've written (to see if you've written nonsensical gibberish) before pressing the "send" button?
I seriously considered posting "Im think socal meedier culd improv effort from ussrs. U agre?" on my Facebook page to make a point, but in the end I couldn't be bothered. Probably in much the same way that those who aare boiling my piss can't be bothered to check what gibberish they are posting.
(And yes... I know all about dyslexia. People who suffer from that condition make the efforrt with the written word).
The early rain soon stopped and I spent a little time in the garden. It was rather frustrating. The strimmer's strimming cable kept breaking off inside the spindle of the machine meaning I had to disassemble it about once every twenty seconds. The gadget I got to join lengths of hose for the pressure washer leaked so much as to make the thing unusable. At every single footstep I tripped over "Furry Face TM" who was determined to get in the way as much as he could.
I then started to repair the broken tent poles of our tent. It was only after I'd fixed them that I realised I hadn't sawed the new sections to the correect length, and that I hadn't got a hacksaw with which to do any sawing.
I gave up at this point and had a shower.
We had advertised our old coffee table on the "Get Rid of your Old Rubbish" Facebook page. Someone in Singleton wanted it so I drove it over to them. They recevied it without a word of thanks, and (narrowly avoding being run off the road by a Royal Mail van) I came back home to get the blame for the Dyson not working (again).
We went down to Folkestone for the afternoon. Operation Stack seemed to have finished, and after a rather good steak and cheese baguette in Subway I got a hacksaw from Screwfix Direct. I'd never been to Screwfix Direct before. I shan't be going back again either. I think its fair to say they couldn't care less about my custom. What's one small hacksaw to them?
We spent much of the afternoon with "Daddies Little Angel TM" and her tribe. Charlie's obviously been playing Dungeons and Dragons at some point, and we played a live-action variation of the game this afternoon in which Sid the pug was the princess. I saved the day by casting a "bird seed of death" spell.
We came home, walked "Furry Face TM" round the park and then I put the hacksaw to use in sorting out the tent poles. It was at that point that I found the hacksaw I'd actually bought last time I'd broken a tent pole.
"er indoors TM" then set off to a birthday party. I went to McDonalds where I met Steve and Leanne. A McFlurry and a McMilk shake went down well, then we went down to The Star where "Access All Areas" were playing.
Perhaps I'm a tad biased but they weren't too shabby at all...