Last
night my washing machine had what I can only describe as “an episode”. By the time I’d emptied the gunge out of the waste
trap, I’d flooded the kitchen.
I
was rather pleased when I got up this morning to see that my fix had worked and
whilst I’d slept it had scrubbed and tumble-dried my undercrackers. I then did
a whites wash (I know all the technical
terms!) and then set the washing machine loose on all the towels I’d used
to mop up with last night.
My
stomach was feeling a bit less ouchy this morning so I had a go at my abdominal
workout app. As I did leg raises and crunches, so Fudge watched with one eye
from the sofa. If I do the routine later in the day he thinks it is a game and
tries to join in, but this morning he regarded it and me with an expression of
“WTF are you doing?”
I
then stood on the scales. I’ve decided to have weigh-ins on a Friday; Monday
doesn’t work if I’ve had a weekend pig-out. I’ve lost another couple of pounds.
I was pleased about that, and felt rather smug as I sorted my dried
undercrackers whilst watching the last episode of the current series of “Still Game”
I
then had a look at the Internet as I waited for my towels to finish. Oh, I got
cross when I read the Tupperware-hunting pages. What *really* winds my up is not so much the rules of hunting film pots
under rocks, but the random way in which sometimes the rules are pedantically
and strictly applied by the geo-authorities, and sometimes they are just
ignored.
Take
today’s rant…
At
the beginning of July 2016 I was part of a twenty-four hour geocaching event.
We *really* had to fight with the
geo-feds to have a formal event to start it, and under no circumstances would
we be allowed a formal event at the end. It says in the rules “Events will be published within a similar time period only if they are
more than 20 miles apart (as the crow flies). Events closer to each other than
20 miles will only be published if the end time of the first is more 10 hours
before the start time of the next”, and although we were looking at
twenty-four hours later, we still weren’t allowed a second formal event despite
over a year’s squabbling and appealing to geo-HQ in Seattle.
So
you can imagine just how much my piss boiled when I realised that (planned for a week next Saturday) on the
exact moment when one
event in Sussex ends, so another event starts not a hundred yards away. Just like they did it last year…
As
I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking about Cliff Richard is suing the BBC
for damages. It turns out that when it was his
turn to be at the end of baseless allegations, the police decided to raid his
house whilst he was on holiday. The police apparently phoned the BBC and asked
if they would like to come and film it all and broadcast the raid on the telly.
Cliff was branded a pedophile on national TV, even though no charges have ever
been brought.
He’s
going to sue the BBC for four million quid (or
so I hear) – good for him.
There
was then an interview with Diane Abbott. She was asked
about Labour’s stance on the problems in Syria, and she reduced sensible
propositions to stark nonsense. I sometimes wonder if she and Jeremy Corbyn are
actually part of a Conservative plot to finally sink the Labour party once and
for all.
Work
was rather busy; I’ve entered the works sweepstake for tomorrow’s Grand
National. I’ve got a horse called “Tenor
Nivernais”. With odds of a hundred to one, I think “Tenor Nivernais” is on a par with
Bottom’s “Sad Ken”.
I
wonder if I will win…?
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