I
was rather all-in when I went to my pit last night; such a shame that "er indoors TM" chose to fight
with the puppy for much of the night.
Over
brekkie I looked at the Internet as I do. Facebook was much the same as ever;
the attention-seekers sought attention as they do. Mind you one posting caught
my eye. My cousin had posted up an advert for “An Experience with Sylvester Stallone”; the idea being that you
turn up at this event and Mr. Stallone stands on stage and entertains. I’m not
sure how he does this; the accompanying video just had clips from his films.
Tickets for the event started at over a hundred and thirty quid and went up to
nearly four hundred quid. I suppose people must pay these prices or they
wouldn’t be putting the show on.
There
would seem to be money in having once been famous. There is a sci-fi convention
in Folkestone every year. One hundred quid might get you four photographs with
has-beens from thirty years ago. When I was with the astronomy club I looked at
getting one of the British astronauts to give a talk to the club... five-figure
sums of money were wanted.
I
suppose that (at the end of the day)
all the time people are paying them money, they will keep taking it. I would.
With
no emails of note we got the leads on to the dogs and went to the warren for a
walk. As we drove "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" phoned to say she’d been selected to do
jury service. It’s something I’d like to do, but I’ve head mixed tales of it.
Some people have told me it’s dull. Another chap told of a jury he sat on in
which the defendant was clearly guilty but a fellow juror would not say “guilty” as she didn’t want to be
responsible for having sent someone to prison (regardless of his crime). Yet another friend told me of a fraud
case on which he was a juror. It was pretty obvious that the chap was guilty
but the rules are that guilt had to be proved. As not a single juror understood
any of the evidence (despite several
pleas for clarification) they delivered a verdict of “not guilty”.
I’ve
told her to err on the side of caution and to go for execution. If nothing else
it would serve as an example to the others.
We
had a rather good walk round the warren; as we walked I met an old friend and
we chatted. Her thirty-year old daughter was there too, and I felt old as I
introduced myself and told her that I remembered her being born.
Last
night a new geocache had gone live on the only road in and out of the warren.
As we’d driven in there were normal people in the way, so we thought we’d have
a look-see on the way home. The thing was called “Well of Doom” and was appropriately
named. There was a manhole. It was covered by a heavy grating. The cache was
hanging from the grating. Easy peasy… I lifted the grating to get to the cache
and dropped the entire lot into the manhole. It fell about five feet into the
most disgustingly stagnant mud.
Oh
how I laughed.
After
a couple of minutes I spotted a wooden stake on the nearby building site. I
hopped the fence, grabbed the stake and was soon head-down in the hole. I
managed to spear the grating with my stake, but as I heaved I felt myself
slipping into the hole. The grating was stuck firm in the mud. I needed more
leverage.
I
had an idea.
"er indoors TM" sat on my ankles
to give me some leverage. As I heaved I could hear her having a conversation
with some passing normal people.
Eventually
I recovered the grating (and quite a bit
of mud) and with the secret geo-rituals done we came home for a wash, a cup
of coffee, and I set off to work for the late shift. All the fun of the day was
over and done with by eleven o’clock.
In
closing today I think the blog’s hit counter has gone berserk; have my rantings
*really* been read eight thousand
times over the last week?
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