With an alarm set I was awake far too early. I made
toast and put on a new episode of “Stranger Things”. This one played for
over two hours; I got bored with it after twenty minutes so I turned it off at
what I felt was a sensible place to have ended an episode.
I sparked up the lap-top and had a little look at the
Internet. Some conspiracy theory half-wit was ranting on about why we don’t
hear anything about the hole in the ozone layer any more. The simple fact is
that science found the issue with the ozone layer some years ago, the world’s
governments banned the chemicals that caused the damage, and now is ozone layer is on the
mend. Sadly the conspiracy theory
half-wits weren’t happy to hear this. And they weren’t at all happy to be told
that acid rain went much the same way.
I Munzed, Wordled from “twonk” to “intel”
in five goes, and got ready for the early shift.
I set off for work. As I drove to junction nine of the
motorway I was again amazed at how many people were out in their pyjamas
walking their dogs. On Friday I mentioned that this would seem to be the way to
walk your dog in South Ashford at quarter past six in the morning. Perhaps it
is some fashion statement?
I drove up the motorway listening to the pundits on
the radio. Being Sunday there was some religious drivel being spouted. There
was an interview with someone who was supposedly a big cheese in the "Revivalist
Movement". Unlike previous "Revivalist Movements" this one is a
frankly laughable idea that no religion is completely correct, but as they'd
all been going for so long they couldn't all be wrong. So the people pushing
this one have cooked up a theory that people might look at the mainstream
religions, pick and choose the bits they like from each and ignore the bits
they don't like. And if they wanted to make up their own little extras to add
on, then that was fine with the idiot being interviewed. Everyone was entitled
to their own opinions, and because each person's idea was "their
religion" it was somehow both valid and right.
They let these people vote, you know.
This was followed by an interview with a farmer
who was working on National Trust land as part of the "Countryside Stewardship" scheme. From
what I could work out this seemed to be a government initiative (from 1991)
to keep paying for farms which clearly were losing money hand over fist.
I switched to my Adrian Mole MP3 and carried on up the
motorway listening to his antics.
I got to work and went in to the early shift where I
did my bit. I always say I don't mind working at the weekend when the weather
is bad. The forecast for the day had been grim, but (as is so often the way)
reality was at odds with forecast. Or so it started that way, but as the
day wore on the glorious sunshine gave way to grey skies and I stopped sulking
(a bit). Mind you, having now worked at some point on eight of the
last ten weekends there's no denying I'm going off of the idea.
I came home and once we’d done “FEED THE FISH”
I geo-puzzled for a bit until my head hurt. “er indoors TM” boiled
up a rather good curry which we washed down with one of those cheap bottles of
plonk.
As we did we watched the last episodes of “Celebrity
Hunted”.
I’ve got a theory about that show – it’s all staged.
If you were really on the run you really wouldn’t appear heading the bill on
stage at live festivals, or live on national television, would you? It makes
for good viewing, but if you were really on the run, you’d hunker down
somewhere and keep quiet.
But now that the show is over we’ve got to find
something else to watch.
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