After
a rather restless night I gave up trying to sleep. Over a bowl of granola I
watched “Good Girls” on Netflix then sparked up my lap-top. "er
indoors TM" had posted some photos from yesterday, but the
rest of my Facebook feed was dull. I saw the same post about Lego posted to a
dozen Lego sites, the same post about Sparks posted to a dozen Sparks sites…
Facebook can be repetitive in the extreme.
As I drove to work the pundits on the
radio were talking about how the over-fifties may find themselves compulsorily
shielded in a bid to prevent a second wave of cornonageddon. I found the idea
of being forcibly cooped up at home rather ironic bearing in mind there was no
problem with me working constantly throughout the first lock-down. I think I
might go stir-crazy if that happened... in all honesty I don't think I'd obey
such a silly idea. Talking of which the pundits on the radio then wheeled on
one of the government's advisors who has been at the centre of all the
decision-making. The chap admitted that much of the lock-down decisions (and
subsequent easing) have all been done based on what seemed to be a good
idea at the time, and that any kind of reason or evidence didn't really have
much of a role in the entire process.
There was then an interview with the head honcho at Hollywood Bowl who wasn't happy that his company hadn't been allowed to open up their bowling alleys this week. With over ninety-eight per cent of their staff still furloughed and the company losing one and a half million quid every week (since they still have all their outgoing and no income) the chap intimated that their company might not survive, and that bowling alleys may well be a thing of the past.
There was then an interview with the head honcho at Hollywood Bowl who wasn't happy that his company hadn't been allowed to open up their bowling alleys this week. With over ninety-eight per cent of their staff still furloughed and the company losing one and a half million quid every week (since they still have all their outgoing and no income) the chap intimated that their company might not survive, and that bowling alleys may well be a thing of the past.
I took the A-road to Maidstone this morning and stopped off
in Hollingbourne for Munzee purposes. Part of the requirements for this month's
clan war is to find and capture Munzees which haven't been Munzed for over a
year. Fortunately for me there are a few of these on the way to work.
Unfortunately only those who've paid out to be a premium Munzer can actually do
this bit of the clan war, so I'm wondering just how much of the resuscitating
will fall to me. I did four this morning; the clan requirement for the month is
to do a hundred and fifty between all of our clan. That would be ten each...*if*
the clan were all premium Munzers. I know that "er indoors TM"
isn't...
The traffic jams up the A20 didn't delay me *that*
much; I was soon at work and raring to go on the early shift. I did my bit…
during which I learned something. I was reliably informed by some of the young
ladies with whom I work that if you are going to waggle your chest to its
fullest effect you must cover up everything else. If you are going to wear a
short shirt then the booby-bits must be firmly under control. Nice girls only
brandish one saucy bit at a time.
One lives and learns.
One lives and learns.
An early start made from an early finish. Bearing in mind
that there are only certain days on which this “doing the old Munzees”
applies, and also bearing in mind there were a load of them not two miles from
work, I went on a little munz-mission before coming home. I rather excelled
myself doing over a third of our ten-person-team’s first level myself.
I came home; with "er indoors TM"
driving "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" and "Stormageddon
- Bringer of Destruction TM" about, I took the dogs down to
Orlestone Woods. We woofed with (and at) other dogs. Fudge got
dog-piggy-backed (which he didn’t like at all) and then…
Pogo was barking frantically as we walked up a path. A chap appeared (seemingly from nowhere) and was all smiles. A young lady was hurriedly putting on some sort of raincoat/dressing-gown/item-of-clothing-whch-was-utterly-unsuitable-for-the-woods-on-a-summer’s-evening. As they fussed the dogs, so I noticed the carefully arranged Harley-Davidson motorbike and the camera on a tripod. Were they doing risqué photography? What did she have on under that covering-everything garment? As I marched the dogs away I heard her ask “how did you want me?”, and as we turned the corner I snatched a glance.
Let’s just say that she’s probably not a nice girl…
Pogo was barking frantically as we walked up a path. A chap appeared (seemingly from nowhere) and was all smiles. A young lady was hurriedly putting on some sort of raincoat/dressing-gown/item-of-clothing-whch-was-utterly-unsuitable-for-the-woods-on-a-summer’s-evening. As they fussed the dogs, so I noticed the carefully arranged Harley-Davidson motorbike and the camera on a tripod. Were they doing risqué photography? What did she have on under that covering-everything garment? As I marched the dogs away I heard her ask “how did you want me?”, and as we turned the corner I snatched a glance.
Let’s just say that she’s probably not a nice girl…
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