I had been trying to get out of last night’s night shift for some time; I *really* didn’t want to work the night shift last night. But it wasn’t that bad really. Mind you, on Monday I was half an hour late back from lunch. This morning (what with traffic jams delaying the early shift) I was half an hour late getting out of work. Oh well… what goes around comes around.
As I headed home through a foggy morning the pundits on the radio were trying to embarrass the Prime Minister about the emerging ventilator scandal in which the Dyson corporation provided the nation with loads of medical ventilators at cost, provided the company didn’t have to pay various taxes as well as providing with loads of medical ventilators at cost… Scandal?… I think I’m missing something here.
I went to bed for the morning; Pogo came up with me. I slept for a couple of hours and got up to find the postman had been. There was a card of condolence from the vet’s, and they had also sent a little packet of forget-me-not seeds. We both blubbed for a bit over that, then took the dogs round the co-op field for a walk.
As we wandered round the field I found a golf ball which I threw for the dogs. On the first two throws Pogo got it first, fetched it back and dropped it at my feet for me to throw again. On the third throw Treacle got it and kept it for herself. She didn’t want the ball; she just didn’t want Pogo to have it. Fortunately I had another ball in my pocket which I threw. They both chased it. Pogo got that ball a couple of times and we played nicely. However when Treacle got to the ball first she rapidly alternated between the ball she had in her mouth and the one I’d just thrown; determined that she would keep both and let Pogo have neither.
She *really* can’t play nicely.
Once home I set about the ironing whilst watching “Four in a Bed” in which the proprietors of four bed and breakfasts all visit each other to see whose is the best. I do like that show – it never fails to amaze me that those expecting the highest standards from others have such low standards themselves.
I finally sparked up my lap-top in the late afternoon. I had message (via Facebook messenger) from Audre Nketia who claims to be “United Kingdom”. He, she or it asked “How are you handsome and rich man?”, claimed to be single and eighteen only, (I did wonder if that was years or stones) and offered me “hypersex” and “orgasm mouse”. I’m not keen, but if any of my loyal readers would like “hypersex” and/or “orgasm mouse”, let me know and I’ll forward the details.
I’ve long since lost count of the amount of messages like this that I get. I report all of them to the Facebook feds, and every time I get a message back assuring me that they don’t breach Facebook’s community standards.
I then spent a few minutes trying to blag geo-puzzles, and amazed myself by staying awake… er indoors TM” is boiling up scran. We will devour it whilst watching last night’s episode of “Lego Masters” and I might crack open a bottle of red wine. That *will* make me sleep…
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