Last night as I left
work last night my phone beeped. I had a friend request on Facebook from
someone claiming to be “Maria Tensriana”
from Lewisham. Bearing in mind that “Maria”
looked suspiciously like an effeminate young lad in a skimpy bikini I thought
it best not to get involved and I ignored the request. As I had my morning
rummage round the Internet this morning I saw that “Maria” had sent me a link to a web site featuring quite a few nudey
ladies of presumably dubious morality. Bearing in mind that “Maria”’s Facebook page was featuring a
close-up picture of some woman’s clopper and some people doing something rather
unhygienic I reported “Maria” to the
Facebook feds for “a breach of their
community standards” and for “posting
inappropriate things”. Mind you I’ve reported breaches of their community
standards to Facebook before and they’ve not shown much interest. I don’t think
they’ve set the bar very high for morality. However I’m hoping they will take a
firm moral stance with “Maria”; if a
publicly posted photo of a pork sword up the brown-eye isn’t “inappropriate”, I’d like to know what
is. (Actually… on reflection – I wouldn’t!)
I didn’t have any of
that almond butter for brekkie today. "er indoors TM" did; she says it
smells of old socks. If any of my loyal readers would like a tub of almond
butter…
I took the dogs out for
their morning constitutional. Before we’d even got to the park Fudge had picked
fights with a huge Rottweiler and a bus. Treacle had had a snarl at a sparrow
and a motorized wheelchair. Once we got to the park Fudge trailed about fifty
to a hundred yards behind and I tripped over Treacle. Twice. We had a dodgy
five minutes when Fudge ran into the fun-fair which is currently set up on
Viccie park’s main green and piddled up one of the caravans, but fortunately no
one saw him. I worry about Fudge going near the caravans of the fun fair folk.
Perhaps I’m prejudiced, but I’ve seen the film “Snatch”.
I
set off for Charing. "er
indoors TM"
has a couple of geocaches there which needed a little
attention. It was more on my way to work than yesterday's maintenance had been,
but I'm not complaining. A little mission before the late shift is always good.
I found the troublesome sandwich boxes and made them good. Not an arduous task
(if making sandwich boxes good is your
forte), and then I went hunting out some other geocaches. My first target
boiled my piss somewhat. The whole idea of the geocaching lark is that the GPS
takes you to the thing. You might obscure the location with a puzzle, but even
so, you end up with a set of GPS co-ordinates which tell you the location of
what you are looking for. The idea *isn't*
that you get to within half a mile of the thing and then blunder about randomly
rooting under hedges. Mind you, watching the way I do it you might be forgiven
for making that mistake... anyway...
Today's
first geocache had a clear description about a small tree. The GPS co-ordinates
took you exactly to that tree. But there was nothing there. Bearing in mind the
thing was described as "large"
it wasn't as though it had been cleverly hidden. I looked at what other finders
had said and widened my search. For all that the GPS is good, any given
location is never more accurate than to within a few yards. An accuracy of four
yards is realistic. Having said that, co-ordinates which were ten yards out
would be frowned upon by those who brandish sat-navs. I eventually found the
cache I was looking for. It was *huge*;
one of the biggest I've ever seen. A cube, about two feet along each side. It
was a shame it was about fifty yards from the posted location, but you can't
have everything.
I
can't help but feel that had the people who'd hidden it found more than three
caches themselves (yes - three!)
they'd have more idea what they were doing.
I
blame the geo-feds for letting such inexperienced people loose with film pots
and sandwich boxes.
My
next target was along some rough country tracks; I gave up and sought out an
easier quarry. Those farm tracks will be a good walk for another morning before
another late shift. I then headed off to work. I stopped off at McDonalds. Last
year I went there all the time; I can't remember my last visit to Aylesford
McDonalds. For all that dinner was only seventy per cent of the cost of dinner
in the works canteen, I couldn't recommend what I had today. The fiery buffalo
chicken wrap wasn't enjoyable; it made my eyes water, my nose run, and my mouth
burn. And (like an idiot) I forgot to
tell them no salt on the chips and so was thirsty for the rest of the day.
I
got to work and did my bit. It wasn't a bad late shift; it went marginally
better than yesterday's had gone. But I was glad to get home. My silly dogs
were sitting by the front door waiting for me.
I
see “Maria”’s Facebook page is still
there, pork swords, brown eyes and all. So much for my neo-puritanical stance…
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