I
had a restless night; whatever it is I've pulled in my abdomen was tender. I
didn't do my usual morning workout this morning as it hurt too much, Instead I
scoffed toast whilst watching The Mighty Boosh who were having a Nanageddon. As
they do.
I
had a quick look at the Internet - some epically breasted young lady had sent
me a friend request on Facebook. That was a result; even if I did reject her
advances (and Facebook deleted her
account only an hour later). And then I checked my emails. Last Sunday I
complained to the BBC about how the weather forecast they give on their
website, radio and television are always contradicting each other. This morning
they sent me a generic reply which made it very obvious that they hadn’t
actually read a word of the complaint I’d sent them. So I sent another
complaint which complained that they had sent “standard reply to complaints about weather forecasts #1” and I
asked if they would address my original complaint.
I
set off (rather earlier than usual)
through a foggy morning to the petrol station where the remarkably attractive
grannie only had one admirer. Mind you what her admirers lacked in numbers they
more than made up for in awkwardness. This chap had parked his car to
effectively block all traffic around the petrol station. I suppose that is one way
to get rid of the competition.
I eventually got a tankful, and set off to
work. As I drove the pundits were talking about a looming crisis in the Chinese
blood donation system. There were several issues which I think were being
over-simplified. But how can a hospital have no blood? Do patients *really* have to go out shopping for the
stuff? I might slate the NHSBT (look it up!)
but it ain't a bad old body when you compare it to the alternatives.
There
was also a lot of talk about how the Home Office is dealing with immigrants
applying for residential status in the UK. I'm getting rather fed up with the
topic. It is patently obvious that society in Britain will collapse without
immigrants doing pretty much all the jobs that the British won’t or can’t do (from cleaners to surgeons), but still
there is the widespread feeling that immigrants are only here in the UK to get
dole handouts. I suspect that this feeling is being fostered by those who see
immigrants as possible competition for their dole handouts, but I could be
wrong. Or uncharitable. Or both.
I'd
left home early. Yesterday I'd failed to find a geocache. Today I had a clue,
which is more than I often have... Yesterday I'd got to the village sign where
the instructions said to go. I had to look at the sign and count the various
thingies on it, then sit down and ponder. Having counted the various thingies
and sat down, I could see the numbers of the thingies I'd just counted clearly
etched onto the traffic lights on the nearby road island. So, seeing the
obvious, yesterday I'd wasted quarter of an hour on that road island looking
for something that wasn't there.
Today
I had a better idea what to do with the numbers of the thingies I'd counted. I
did the calculations and worked out that the geocache would be right in the
middle of a school.
That
was clearly wrong.
I
had a little think and (after
deliberately mis-spelling "Ditton") came up with what might have
been a plausible idea. There was a minor hiccup as I drove off in the wrong
direction. I eventually managed to turn round, and five hundred yards up the
road I found myself at what turned out to be another wrong place.
I've
since found out that there are serious errors in the way the final location of
this sandwich box is calculated, and (armed
with what I am assured is the right answer) I may well go back for a third
attempt tomorrow.
I
got to work, and did my bit. Over a tea break I found myself embroiled in an
interesting squabble. Someone with whom I work was talking about the Lord of
the Rings books.
Have
you ever read them?
This
chap hadn't, but maintained they were "a
classic". I've read them. They are crap. The first time I thought they
were tedious to the point of being excruciating, and the second time was
because I thought I'd give the books a second chance (and wished I hadn't).
For
over thirty years I have maintained that the books told a reasonable (if not original) story, but would be far
better if several hundred pages shorter and with several hundred fewer adjectives.
I was told that i was wrong, and who was I to disrespect "a classic".
Who
indeed?
Once
home we walked the dogs round the block. They were *far* better behaved than they were yesterday. I then fed the fish;
that pond is surprisingly clear.
"er indoors TM" is at craft
club. The dogs are asleep. I *really*
should do some CPD…
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