I
slept reasonably well last night, but was still wide awake rather earlier than
I might have been. I blame my phone bleeping about emails even though its
internet connection had both been turned off.
I
got up and watched an episode of “Gotham”;
the SkyPlus box told me the show played for an hour and four minutes but I
shaved twenty-five minutes off of that by fast-forwarding through the adverts.
Perhaps I should watch the show on Netflix – no adverts there.
I
sparked up my lap-top and had a quick look at cyber-space. A particularly
vindictive row was kicking off on one of the geocaching pages I follow on
Facebook. What is the most film pots under rocks you have found in one day?
Mine is one hundred and forty-seven. That’s not much compared to some people…
or is it? We got that total in Cornwall over a twelve-hour period when we were
on a serious mission and we were finding them at a rate of about one every five
minutes. If it was possible to keep that up then we might have found three
hundred that day. There were those who were claiming to have found over a
thousand in one day. A thousand? Now I have a degree in maths, so perhaps I
have an advantage here, but finding a thousand film pots under rocks in one day
is finding them at a rate of one every minute and a half. Is that physically
possible? I don’t think so. However is that worth having a rather bitter and
nasty argument about? I don’t think so either.
Why
is it that people want to squabble all the time? Be it keeping snakes, looking
through telescopes, flying kites… no matter what the pastime there are always
those who want to reduce it to an argument.
This
morning I had an email from British Gas suggesting I made an appointment to get
my boiler serviced (oo-er!). It turns
out a free servicing is included in my customer service agreement with them. I
was rather pleased to learn this; especially when you bear in mind that I’m not
a customer of British Gas. I asked them for more details, and then got myself
ready for work.
There
has been a wooden cot in our hallway for a month or so. A couple of days ago I
found out I was supposed to be delivering it to Sofia in Tenterden. (No one tells me anything) I loaded it
into the car, and spent a few minutes looking for the screws that would hold it
together. There weren't any. It turns out that they are still in Margate.
And
so to work. As I drove I was being tailgated by a van from the firm of T
Kirwan. He's tailgated me before. Dangerously overtaking me just outside of
Great Chart he then tailgated the car in front until he dangerously overtook
that one too. I wish he wouldn't do that.
As
always the pundits on the radio were spewing their nonsense. This morning they
were talking about the Russians who have got the hump. Whilst it is quite
acceptable (in their Slavic minds)
for them to spray nerve poisons around Salisbury, they weren't happy to have
had one of their spy planes shot down. They claimed it was the Israelis or the
French who did it. The Americans said it was the Syrians. Will we ever find
out? Somehow I doubt it.
There
was also an interview with Vince Cable (the
outgoing leader of the Liberal Democraps) who was trying to pretend that
the Liberal Democrap party isn't dying on its arse. With the Conservatives at each other's
throats and the Labour party in total disarray, if the Liberal Democraps can't
organise a piss up in a brewery now, they never will.
There
was also an interview with Nigel Farrage (who
seemingly becomes more odious every day), and to top it all off the Chief
Rabbi tried to persuade us to be thoughful when we pray, and not to pray for
stupid things. Because the world really would be in a sad state if God answered
the prayers of idiots. I didn't quite laugh out loud, but this pre-supposed two
frankly ridiculous propositions. Firstly that there is a God that answers
prayers, and secondly that this God answers any old prayer (despite evidence to the contrary on both
scores). I was disappointed; his predecessor used to be quite insightful.
As
the rain started I decided against rummaging in hedgerows for film pots that
had laid not bothering anyone for over a year.
Instead I went to Tesco. I got some plum jam. You can judge how dull my
life can be when plum jam is a highlight of my day. I also got armpit-squirt
but forgot the biscuits and the bumwipe. I can live without the biscuits, but I
may well be calling in to Tesco again tomorrow morning (if not before).
I
got to work and did my bit; all the time aching from yesterday's hoiking rocks
about. And with my bit done I came home through the drizzle.
Bake-Off is on in a
minute… Today was dull…
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