Ironically on the one night I was sleeping like a baby I had a
rather vivid nightmare in which "International Take Your Dogs To Work
Day" coincided with "International Don't Let Your Dogs Crap
All Over The Place Day". Against my better judgement I had been
convinced to take part in the first and consequently had fallen foul of the
second. And then (in a rather unexpected turn of events) I was faced
with a colony of dung beetles spitting fireballs at all and sundry from their
home in a nest of dog turds which was blocking up the works of a rather crucial
piece of blood-testing apparatus.
I suppose this must speak volumes about what is going on in my
subconscious.
I got up, made brekkie and turned on the telly. Yesterday I
mentioned that Netflix had dropped "Shameless". This morning
it was back and at the top of my "continue watching" list. So
I continued watching it. The baby has stopped talking, and two of the rather
foxier young ladies became rather lesbidacious. However when "doing the
dirty deed" they both kept their pants on. Does this happen when foxy
young ladies "do the dirty deed"? I'm (thankfully)
rather vague on the subject.
With telly watched I had a little look at the Internet. It was much
the same as ever. Sadly what was once a
rather good site for getting advice on garden ponds has been taken over by the
keyboard warriors. I could do with advice on my lilies (one has croaked, one
has gone rather manky) but I'm not going to fuel some sad sack's need for
self-aggrandisement .
There was also talk of hose
pipe bans locally. I can't help but think that rather than ban hosepipes,
South East Water might like to fix the leak just down the road from me that has
been flooding the pavement for months, and also sort the leak in Brookfield
Road that has been flooding the junction by the traffic lights for weeks. Both
(and plenty of others) have been on their "Report a Leak"
website for ages, and they've done nothing.
As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking
about Boris Johnson (as if they ever talk about much else). The
report on whether or not he deliberately misled Parliament is out and had come
to the obvious conclusion (as if it could realistically come to any other
conclusion). On Monday MPs have to vote on whether or not to punish him. It
seems that quite a few MPs are keen on letting him get away with it; feeling
that when (not if) he returns to high office he will remember those who
looked out for him. I suppose they've got a point; which of our MPs aren't in
it for anything other than self-interest?
The poor (current) Prime Minister was getting stick for not
being seen to take a stance on Boris. The poor (current) Prime Minister
is in a no-win position, isn't he? If he does nothing he is accused of tacitly
condoning Boris's misdemeanors. If he takes a firm line he is accused of being
vindictive.
I got to work. Yesterday afternoon the boss had sent me a message
asking if I would do the early shift today. I was quite happy to do that. I get
to work super-early to miss the traffic anyway, and being on an early means I
get out (nearly) two hours earlier than I otherwise would.
So getting out early meant I got home early, and I took the dogs to
the woods. We arrived to find the car park completely empty, and had a rather
good walk. Mind you we did see another group of dog walkers. A young couple
with three dogs; the young lady of which was wearing a suit of bright blue
skin-tight lycra which was about three sizes too small. She really might as
well have been walking round the woods in the nip for all that her clothing was
keeping secret.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a rather
good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching the first episode of the
new season of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds”… or that was our plan. As
the program wore on it seemed more and more familiar. I’d started the show
right from the very first episode. Oh well… there’s only ten episodes in that
first season. We watched two of them, and we’ll watch the rest so that when we
get to the new episode we’ll have some idea of what’s going on.
Or that’s the plan.
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