10 April 2018 (Tuesday) - Stuff

As I did my abdominal workout (as dictated by my Home Workout app) I think I twisted more than I intended to when doing Russian twists. My back has been somewhat twingy today.
With workout done I watched the first episode of the new season of “Plebs” as I scoffed toast. With Joel Fry off doing bigger and better things, Stylax is no more. I wondered how the show would fare without him; it was rather good.

I then had a look at the Internet. According to one of the 1970s TV Facebook pages I follow, Mackenzie Crook is to feature in a remake of Worzel Gummidge, and Joe Pasquale is to star as Frank Spencer in a reboot of Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em. I suppose you might say that Plebs is following on from where “Up Pompeii” left off… are there no new ideas for television?
And then I checked my email. I saw that Meet Jethva (?) wants to add me to his LinkedIn network. I can’t help but wonder who Meet Jethva is, and why he wants to chum up with me. I had emails suggesting I might apply for jobs in Essex. And Amazon again suggested I buy that which I’d already bought from them.

I spent a few minutes looking at the geo-map. It has been suggested that I might make the French Mega my ten thousandth geo-find. This takes place in fourteen weeks’ time. If I am going to have this happen I need to make some geo-plans. I need to find an average of forty geocaches a week for the next fourteen weeks. Ideally that will mostly be in long walks at the weekends. Will this come off… time will tell. It always does.

I set off to work, and as I drove off of the slip road on to the motorway I was nearly killed by a lorry of the Discordia company. Personally (when driving) whenever I come to a motorway junction at which I am not coming off I move into the middle lane so’s people can get on to the motorway, rather than driving at a snail’s pace to block the junction then accelerating directly at cars which have pulled out at what was a safe distance in front.
As I drove there was talk on the radio about an expedition to Antarctica to locate Sir Ernest Shackleton’s lost ship. But it turns out there are legal problems. Technically the shipwreck is the property of Sir Ernest’s grand-daughter, and she’s not overly keen on having it messed with.

I got to work, had a busy day, and came home again. Whilst "er indoors TM" boiled up some scran I took the hounds round the park. Treacle had the hump that "er indoors TM" wasn’t with us, and I suppose Fudge *could* have gone slower if he had tried.
As we walked we met a drunk tramp who asked if the dogs were friendly. I said they most certainly were, and kept going. By the time the tramp had fallen over and got up again to fuss the dogs, we were fifty yards down the road.

Being Tuesday the clans gathered. We watched more of the Mars docu-drama, then put the world to rights. As we do…

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