I had a rather cold night; an
alliance of "er indoors TM" and the wolf-pack had most (if not all) of the duvet. I eventually
got fed up with being cold and got up.
Over toast I watched another
episode of “Prison Break” which is getting rather good, and then I
sparked up the Internet. On Facebook I had three friend requests from rather
foxy transvestites who were trying to advertise porno websites. Much as I like
Facebook, the people who run it don’t do a very good job of keeping out the
rather foxy transvestites who want to peddle porn. Perhaps when registering
with Facebook there should be a question: “Are you a rather foxy
transvestite trying to peddle porn?” It might weed out some of the
undesirables.
Other than blokes in skimpy
dresses there wasn’t very much going on with Facebook this morning.
I set off for work. Bearing in
mind just how bad the journey home was last night I asked Google to direct me
to work. I knew things would be bad when it said to avoid the motorway. Three
miles up the A20 there is a bridge over the motorway. As I drove over it I
could see all the work-bound traffic queued up and at a standstill. I've played
that game too much recently!
As I drove I listened to the
pundits on the radio. They were all discussing the Brexit deal which the Prime
Minister has finally agreed with the EU. She's now got to agree it with the UK,
and this is proving to be tricky if for no other reason that the
whole thing is one big secret and no-one know what it is.
Various windbags were either pontificating
on the matter (or talking out of their backsides depending on whether or not
you agreed with them). All were contradicting each other with their
baseless speculations, but one of them made me sit up and take notice. I wish I
could remember her exact phrasing, but her basic message was that any Brexit
deal is pretty much meaningless in the long term as the UK will probably
be re-applying for EU membership within a generation. Much as it wasn’t a
popular thing to say, none of the other windbags seemed to want to disagree
with this.
There was also talk about the
fate of whistle-blowers in the NHS. For all that NHS workers are supposed to be
able to speak up and point out failings in the system, it seems there are a *lot* of
whistle-blowers who have been made to suffer for their actions, and there
are precious few who haven't been made to regret opening their traps.
I wonder if the trick for
successful whistle-blowing is to give serious thought as to exactly
to whom one might squeal the faults of the system. Perhaps squealing
to the very individual who is ultimately responsible for those faults
you've found might be a bad choice? Talking totally hypothetically of
course, this might be why some people were left high and dry whilst others
received a medal from the Queen? Not that I'm bitter...
I got to work after an hour and
a half, and had a relatively good day. The journey home was far easier than the
journey in, and once home I got the leads on to the dogs. We walked out of the
door just as "er indoors TM" was pulling up
outside. That was a result; walking four dogs is a challenge so I was glad of
the help.
With dogs walked they had their
tea then ran riot whilst "er indoors TM" boiled up a
rather good bit of scran. We scoffed it whilst watching the most recent episode
of “Doctor Who”. What was once family
entertainment has become politically correct claptrap.
Such a shame.
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