As
I drove home from a particularly busy night shift the pundits on the radio were
all a-twitter about the Prime Minister’s announcement that she’s resigned.
Which was probably for the best; she was a bit on the crap side, wasn’t she?
Amazingly
there are calls for that idiot Boris Johnson to come back; it was claimed that
over a hundred Conservative MPs want his return. Being a showman, the (equally
idiot) general public love him, and seem to be quite prepared to ignore
that he acted illegally in forcing his Brexit plans through. Or he lied so much
about so many things that if you type “Boris Johnson’s lies” into
Google, the first website you get is actually boris-johnson-lies.com. Or that he staged
piss-ups for his mates in Downing Street during the pandemic whilst everyone
else was forced to live in isolation. It is widely felt that the charm of this
incompetent liar is enough to overturn the Labour party’s thirty-six point lead
in the opinion polls.
Democracy…
it presupposes those casting votes are competent to do so.
There
was then an interview with Ben Elton who is fronting the one-off return of Friday Night Live. I’m afraid I wasn’t
impressed. I once saw Ben Elton live at the Marlowe theatre in Canterbury where
he was brilliant. This morning he was nowhere near as good; trying to give some
scholarly explanation of his brand of comedy was very much on the dull side.
I
got home and went to bed where I slept for a couple of hours until the bashing
of not-so-nice-next-door’s double glazing replacement woke me.
As
“er indoors TM” took the dogs for a walk I had a look at what
the postie had left me.
HM
Revenue and Customs had written to tell me that Dad had overpaid his income tax
and would be sending me a refund. Presumably the refund I paid into the bank
yesterday?
I
had a letter from a solicitor; it turned that the bunch of scammers who phoned
me yesterday about Dad’s gas bill were actually genuine. It seems British Gas
farm out all their bereavement-related work to a subcontractor (can you
believe it?).
And
I had a bill for my car’s road tax. Twenty quid for the year. That’s not bad,
is it?
“er
indoors TM” and the dogs returned. The dogs were worn out from their
exertions, so we settled them and (on the spur of the moment) went out
to the
Beefeater at Hothfield for dinner. We’ve not been there for a while, but a
starter of chicken wings, a rather good curry and a caramel apple Betty to end
with… and change out of twelve quid (each). It was only a shame that the
old biddies at the next table had to be trying to out-gross each other with
their various medical problems, issues and ailments.
From
there we had a look at bathroom shops. We’ve a vague plan to do the bathroom
out in the near future but… Have you looked at new sinks recently? Pretty much
all of them have one mixer tap in the middle *exactly* where I want to
stick my head when having a shave. I want a sink with separate hot and cold
taps off to the sides (as God intended). No one seems to make these any
more.
Yesterday
I mentioned a video game that “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
had been playing. I found out what it was…
“Human Fall
Flat” is far more difficult than my grandson makes it seem; five
minutes into the game and I’m stuck.
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