8 March 2017 (Wednesday) - Buying Bogroll
On that rare occasion when I was actually fast asleep at 4am the puppy started chewing my hand. That woke me up. I got up, emptied the dishwasher and watched another episode of “You Rang M’Lord”. Captain Dalby had been located, and Lady Lavender didn’t throw her porridge (which was seen by all as something of a result). When the DVD finished I again found thet “Brideshead Revisited” was playing. Charles was drowning in honey. He did that a lot in the late 1920s.
I’d had an email overnight from the Environment Agency telling me my fishing licence was about to expire and offering me the opportunity to renew it on-line. That saved a load of farting around.
I was just about to check Facebook when an enormous crash from upstairs told me the dogs had just jumped off of the bed. When they get up it sounds as though they are coming through the ceiling. Once I’d tiddled them they both went back to sleep, and I then managed to find that very little had happened on Facebook overnight. That was probably for the best bearing in mind their antics in the news yesterday.
In the past I’ve reported the various bits of filth that has been directed at me on that social platform and they’ve done nothing. Over the last few days the BBC have reported to Facebook’s own watchdogs one hundred pictures on their site featuring child pornography. In the first instance the people at Facebook claimed that eighty two of these depraved pictures didn’t breach any of their community standards, but when challenged by the BBC they then reported the BBC to the police over the very pictures that had appeared on their own web site. They quite happily run child porn but won’t allow me to use an alias.
As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were interviewing Michael Heseltine. The eighty-three year old chap is one of the longest serving politicians of our age and he’s been sacked from his position in government because he voted with his conscience rather than voting how the Prime Minister wanted him to. Whether he voted for the right thing or not is immaterial; he did what he felt the right thing was and openly defended his position on live national radio.
Personally I think it sucks that the Prime Minister didn’t have the guts to tell him he was sacked personally, but did it via some press release.
I stopped off at Aldi to get some bogroll. As I got out of my car I was harangued by a passing idiot. Did I know where Borough Green Railway station was? I said I thought it was about fifteen miles away. The idiot shouted that it was eight miles away and rammed his mobile phone under my nose to show it on Google Navigation. Sure enough it was only eight miles away. I conceded my inaccuracy. However the idiot was unable to follow the voice directions from his phone. To work out where he was, he wanted to know the name of the nearby road (Hermitage Lane) and was incensed that I was unsure as to whether the other road was the A20. He wasn’t impressed when I told him I neither knew nor cared what the road was; I knew the way to work and that was enough for me. He started ranting that he needed to get to the railway. I offered to lead him to Barming railway station (a mile up the road), but he wanted Borough Green railway station. I suggested he followed the directions of the very sat-nav app he was still thrusting at me; he seemed to take this very sensible suggestion as a personal affront.
I left him to it, and went to get my bogroll.
I got to work and did my thing. And with my thing done I came home. The pundits on the radio were discussing the afternoon’s budget, but it was clear that the discussions and pontifications were all rather spur-of-the-moment. Hopefully they will have a more considered view in the morning.
Sometimes they do…