I had a
rather good night’s kip, but was still awake rather early. I got up, and over
brekkie watched the last episode of “Little Britain” that Netflix had to
offer. With a few minutes spare I looked at a geo-puzzle and got a little
cross with it. This one typifies what is wrong with the entire concept of a
geocaching puzzle cache. These geo-puzzles aren’t like “proper” puzzles.
In a “proper” puzzle you have an obvious logical problem to solve.
Geo-puzzles
aren’t logical at all. Take the one I was fighting with this morning for
example. This one is something to do with Monty Python’s cheese sketch. Each of
the cheeses listed refer to a number in the latitude and longitude of the
co-ordinates that you are trying to find. Now this number might be the last
digit in the year of the foundation of the dairy making the cheese, it might
be, the first digit in the cheese’s listing in the international cheese
register, it might be the third digit in the amount of times that Michael Palin
has made himself sick by gorging on that cheese, or (quite frankly) it
might be absolutely anything at all.
And to
further complicate the issue, once you’ve hit on the right idea (by random
guesswork) you then have to find the right website from which to get the
information because there are countless websites listing how many times the
cheese has won the tour de France or the Nobel prize, and all the websites give
slightly different information.
I stopped off
at the co-op on my way to work. I wanted to get a biscuit bar for lunch (that's
the kind of guy I am!) and I thought I might try out my new co-op card.
Bearing in mind that my Nectar card has scraped me up over a tenner's worth of
credit in a couple of months, I'm hoping for great things from my co-op card
too. I suspect I will be disappointed.
There was a
minor delay at the counter in the co-op as the builders were so obviously
trying to charm the nice co-op lady. I think the builders were a tad optimistic
- I once mistook this woman for a bloke. Her haircut has a lot to answer for.
As I drove to
work the pundits on the radio were talking about European Council President
Donald Tusk who made
a speech yesterday and mentioned a
"special place in hell" for "those who promoted Brexit
without even a sketch of a plan of how to carry it out safely". Needless
to say this has boiled the piss of those who are in favour of Brexit; even
though Monsieur Tusk has probably got a point. But (to be fair) Satan
should also have plans for those who screamed that Brexit would cause the end
of the world. It is now clear that there was a lot of disinformation bandied by
both sides of the squabble, neither side (it would seem) having the
faintest clue of what they were actually talking about.
There was
also discussion about eighty-year-old Geoff Whaley who has motor neurone
disease and has decided
to end his life rather than experience the indignity of the final stages of
the illness. With the assistance of his wife he's gone to one of these clinics
in Switzerland where they offer euthanasia, and his wife is worried that the
police are going to bring charges against her. British law is a strange
thing. It is illegal to help someone end
the pain that a human is supposed to endure, but (by the same legal system)
it is not allowed to let an animal suffer in the same way.
I can't see
what there is to discuss here. Let's be clear - if I end up in the same boat as
Mr Whaley, I want my plug pulling. Those who might be in the position to make that
decision for me have had their orders for some years.
"Thought
for the Day" was introduced by someone who was something big in the
Catholic church. She was wittering about how the Pope has recently visited the
Middle East and met with various Muslim leaders without having a fight with
them. She thought it would be nice if everyone could all get on without
fighting. Just like the Pope and her church and the Muslim leaders have done (drawing
a veil over the Inquisitions and fatwas).
It's a valid
point. We could probably all learn from this.
In the past I
got into no end of spats. These days I try to avoid this more and more by
deliberately avoiding those with whom I might fight. It seems to work up to a
point.
Yesterday the
journey to work took over two hours. Today I did the same run in a shade over
one hour. The roads were a lot quieter for some reason, and not having broken
traffic lights helped.
I got to
work, and I found myself biting my tongue. Someone of about my age was banging
on about how he wanted to retire because (so he maintained) you can't really do
anything with your life or have any hobbies or interests all the time you've
got a full-time job.
Really?
With work done I came home. "er
indoors TM"
boiled up a rather good dinner then went off to craft club. Finding myself
underneath a pile of dogs I turned to Netflix. “Russian
Doll” is an interesting show, and it stars one of the racier cast members of “Orange is the New Black”.
I’ve developed a guts ache this evening. And when you’ve as
much guts as me, that is a lot of ache…
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