17 January 2019 (Thursday) - The Mr Whippys
Again I slept through until the alarm went off. Unheard of!!
Over a brekkie of muesli I watched more "Prison Break" in which it turns out that the baddies were goodies all along. Even though they'd been shooting everyone and anyone. There is nothing like a TV show with a believable plot, is there? And this is fast becoming nothing like one.
I quickly checked the Internet. Looking at Facebook I saw that the details of the February geo-meet had been announced. A picnic at Greatstone... Have you ever been to Greatstone? It's a tad grim at the best of times. But in February? If the weather is iffy the plan is to withdraw to the Jolly Fisherman pub. I've been to the Jolly Fisherman pub. When I was there I formed the distinct impression that the reason that the fisherman was jolly was that he'd just won a bare-knuckle fist fight.
I don't think I shall be going to this meet-up...
With little else of note I set off to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were discussing the Brexit shambles (as if they discuss much else these days). There has been a development in that there are now cross-party talks about the matter going on. It speaks volumes that Jeremy Corbyn is refusing to have anything to do with these.
There was also talk about the people who investigate complaints against police officers. They are under fire for failing to successfully prosecute complaints, and that seemingly far too many coppers are walking away from the tribunals. Perhaps these coppers walking away were falsely accused in the first place? Or is the accusation itself enough to prove guilt?
I got to work and did that which I had to do. As I worked I found my head was spinning with thoughts about phone numbers and odd shapes and strange pictures and jigsaw puzzles. Following a concerted bash at the geo-puzzles that went live last week the only ones remaining to be solved are (obviously) the fiendishly difficult ones. Mind you I also had one or two rather unwholesome thoughts about a certain celebrity in a unicorn costume too (there was a puzzle about that)...
With work done I came home to find "er indoors TM" laying an egg. One of the dogs had stolen and scoffed a box of choccies. Now I’m not pointing the finger here, but no dog stole anything until Pogo came to stay.
We walked the dogs round the block. Pogo had several bouts of what I can only describe as “the Mr Whippy”s, which I am taking as further evidence of his misdemeanours.
"er indoors TM" boiled up an incredibly good pasta bake which I scoffed with a couple of bottles of ale, and then I shared some cheese with the wolf-pack. We all like cheese…