This morning the blog’s hit counter passed the ten thousand hits mark. I suppose I should commemorate the occasion in some way, by posting something original, witty, erudite and yet somehow poignant. But I can’t think of anything so I’ll stick with my tried and tested formula of rambling out any old drivel which comes into my head. After all, that’s been my modus operandi (latin!) since October 2006.
Since I relocated my blog away from Yahoo last year, I’ve been very impressed with the various features of Blogspot. Particularly the “Dates for the Diary” section. However following the launch of a rather original website, I’m left wondering if advertising when I’m not going to be home is a good idea.
This website, Please Rob Me dot com, claim that they are trying to point out the foolishness of advertising on Twitter that your house is empty. I suppose they have a point. But then, when I go to all the events I’ve listed on this blog, my house isn’t empty. If anyone wants to break in, they will find the fruits of my loin still very firmly ensconced.
But on a more general level, who follows this blog, or follows peoples’ twitterings? Are people really going to stake out their friends movements just to nick their telly? I can’t see it, somehow. In all honesty there’s probably more valuable stuff more easily nicked in my garden than there is in the house. And anyone can see when I’m not home by watching me drive off to work in the morning anyway. Surely watching me walk out of the house and turn round and lock the door is a better indication that the place is empty?
And having locked the front door this morning, I set off to work, where we (fortunately) didn’t get the patient who turned up at an undisclosed hospital today. The world’s fattest man has allegedly had a heart attack. This porker, who despite being only two years older than me is over double my weight. His personal healthcare sets the NHS back one hundred thousand pounds every year. The reinforced ambulance to drive him to hospital cost twenty grand.
It is easy to ridicule those of the more generous physique. I myself am one of nature’s porkers. It’s no secret I could do with losing some weight. But I’m not utterly unfit. I walk and cycle about. And I am very conscious that I have many friends who aren’t in such rude health as I am, and I for one am glad and proud that we as a nation have a health care system that looks after them.
But whilst this chap is in incredibly poor health, it is of his own making. Apparently he harboured an ambition to become the world’s fattest man, and so deliberately ate himself to the size he now is. He can only get his epic portions of food by sending his state funded carers to the shops for him.
I think I must be missing the point here. Surely the carers should leave him in his bed, and pass him the occasional bottle of water. If he’s truly hungry he will get out of his bed and go get himself some food. And if he’s too fat to get out of bed, then just perhaps that is God’s way of hinting that maybe he doesn’t need that cream cake…..
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