I would have had a good
night's sleep. But because it was a hot night we had the bedroom
window open. The people finishing their shift in the factory down the
road came up the road at 2.05am. Rather than walking next to the
person with whom they wished to talk, conversations were bellowed
across the street. I was rather restless after that.
Over a spot of brekkie I
watched a drama I'd recorded onto the SkyPlus box. It featured
Victoria Wood in a tale about the tribulations of a member of the
WRVS during the last war. It was quite watchable; it was only a shame
that they had to make a point of one of the characters having had a
gay lover who died. This seemed to have been done for no other reason
than to make a politically correct point. It added nothing to the
show, and rather niggled me for no reason that I could see.
As I listened to the
morning's news I heard something else politically correct. This
one boiled my piss.
In parts of the country
there is a campaign to encourage illegal immigrants to return to
their countries of origin. Messages are being broadcast in a variety
of ways to do this. However many eminent politicians don't like the
message "In the UK illegally? Go home or face arrest".
It's apparently offensive to people who are in the UK illegally and
therefore face arrest.
Perhaps we should give
them bigger houses and more dole courtesy of the tax payer to sooth
their hurt feelings? You couldn't make it up!
Mind you the next bit
gave me a wry smile. There was an article on survival rates after
testicular cancer. The rates are good, and are improving. However the
pundit on the radio was advocating that men should "have a
rummage" regularly to feel for odd lumps and bumps on their
junk, and was at something of a loss as to how to convey instructions
concisely.
It was apparently a
matter of some concern that many of the lower orders don't actually
know what the word "testicle" means; in certain
circles the word "testicle" is as likely to refer to
a breast or a buttock as it is to a clockweight.
The chap from the cancer
institute being interviewed was saying that they have endless
complaints because their literature features terms such as "kn*ck*rs"
and "b*ll*cks". Those of us that aren't pond scum
find such terminology offensive in official literature; however not
using the vernacular presents a difficulty for the scrattering orders
who (apparently) don't understand any other words for the
"flowers and frolics".
It's another world, isn't
it?
And so to work where I
did my bit. I spent much of the day alternating between staring out
of the window at the glorious sunshine and staring at tomorrow's
weather forecast predicting heavy rain. I hope the forecast is wrong
again. I want to do stuff tomorrow...
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