13 April 2018 (Friday) - Betting on Sad Ken
Last night my washing machine had what I can only describe as “an episode”. By the time I’d emptied the gunge out of the waste trap, I’d flooded the kitchen.
I was rather pleased when I got up this morning to see that my fix had worked and whilst I’d slept it had scrubbed and tumble-dried my undercrackers. I then did a whites wash (I know all the technical terms!) and then set the washing machine loose on all the towels I’d used to mop up with last night.
My stomach was feeling a bit less ouchy this morning so I had a go at my abdominal workout app. As I did leg raises and crunches, so Fudge watched with one eye from the sofa. If I do the routine later in the day he thinks it is a game and tries to join in, but this morning he regarded it and me with an expression of “WTF are you doing?”
I then stood on the scales. I’ve decided to have weigh-ins on a Friday; Monday doesn’t work if I’ve had a weekend pig-out. I’ve lost another couple of pounds. I was pleased about that, and felt rather smug as I sorted my dried undercrackers whilst watching the last episode of the current series of “Still Game”
I then had a look at the Internet as I waited for my towels to finish. Oh, I got cross when I read the Tupperware-hunting pages. What *really* winds my up is not so much the rules of hunting film pots under rocks, but the random way in which sometimes the rules are pedantically and strictly applied by the geo-authorities, and sometimes they are just ignored.
Take today’s rant…
At the beginning of July 2016 I was part of a twenty-four hour geocaching event. We *really* had to fight with the geo-feds to have a formal event to start it, and under no circumstances would we be allowed a formal event at the end. It says in the rules “Events will be published within a similar time period only if they are more than 20 miles apart (as the crow flies). Events closer to each other than 20 miles will only be published if the end time of the first is more 10 hours before the start time of the next”, and although we were looking at twenty-four hours later, we still weren’t allowed a second formal event despite over a year’s squabbling and appealing to geo-HQ in Seattle.
So you can imagine just how much my piss boiled when I realised that (planned for a week next Saturday) on the exact moment when one event in Sussex ends, so another event starts not a hundred yards away. Just like they did it last year…
As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking about Cliff Richard is suing the BBC for damages. It turns out that when it was his turn to be at the end of baseless allegations, the police decided to raid his house whilst he was on holiday. The police apparently phoned the BBC and asked if they would like to come and film it all and broadcast the raid on the telly. Cliff was branded a pedophile on national TV, even though no charges have ever been brought.
He’s going to sue the BBC for four million quid (or so I hear) – good for him.
There was then an interview with Diane Abbott. She was asked about Labour’s stance on the problems in Syria, and she reduced sensible propositions to stark nonsense. I sometimes wonder if she and Jeremy Corbyn are actually part of a Conservative plot to finally sink the Labour party once and for all.
Work was rather busy; I’ve entered the works sweepstake for tomorrow’s Grand National. I’ve got a horse called “Tenor Nivernais”. With odds of a hundred to one, I think “Tenor Nivernais” is on a par with Bottom’s “Sad Ken”.
I wonder if I will win…?