Having discovered an errant turd on the carpet behind the table last night I took no chances this morning and frogmarched two very sleepy puppies into the garden far earlier that any of us would have liked. After a while both eventually tiddled. Dogs are strange things. I wake up every morning in dire need of the loo; dogs wake up with no such urge and are quite content to bimble round the garden playing silly beggars before eventually "producing" after ten to fifteen minutes later.
I'm finding that these days so much of my life revolves around the toilet habits of two small dogs...
They went back to sleep, and I watched an episode of "The Sandman"; this one featuring Stephen Fry as "Gilbert". I went to school with a Gilbert; albeit a different one. The rat I dissected during my A-level biology classes was named after him. He ran competitively at county level in the late 1970s. He once sold me a pedal-bike that fell apart within a week of my buying it. And he sadly died some time ago in an air crash.
And so to work. My piss boiled as I drove. The pundits on the radio were talking about the recent murder of Thomas O'Halloran; an eighty-seven year old chap stabbed to death whilst on his mobility scooter in London. The chap's local MP was interviewed who said that this was the fourth murder in the area in six days. For all the hot air vented and crocodile tears shed, no one was brave enough to address the core issue that the police are (yet again) unable to keep the streets safe. Is there *really* any practical alternative to having vigilante mobs keeping us all safe?
A-level results were published today. It would seem that grades have fallen. Seriously? For the last two years COVID restrictions have meant that A-level results have been issued on the strength of what teachers think the students would achieve, and which teacher is going to claim that their students would get anything other than a brilliant result?
And hot on the heels of COVID, double figure inflation and record breaking temperatures is a predicted world-changing volcanic eruption according to our old friend science. That would be a nuisance...With
work done I came home… and was lucky to get there. As I came down the Operation
Brock contraflow (with a fifty miles per hour speed limit) I was
intensely conscious of the lorry behind me. Inches behind me. Either the
driver was falling asleep at the wheel and was unaware of how close he was. Or
he was impatient with the speed limit and was deliberately trying to hit my car
to get me to go faster (even though there were other cars in front of me).
I’ve emailed the email address on the side of the lorry to ask which it was.
I wonder if they will
reply?
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