I woke finding myself tangled up in the hose from my CPAP
device. In between extricating myself and knocking it on the floor I managed to
wake Morgan, who was not at all impressed by the commotion.
I couldn't get back to sleep after that.
Every morning I turn the telly on before I start the toast
going. Sometimes the Sky-Q box wants to update itself and that can take an age.
This morning it didn't, and as I made a sandwich for lunch I listened to the
infomercials that are broadcast at silly o'clock. Toda there was one about a
certain brand of garden products, all of which are powered by the same battery.
The presenter was waxing lyrically about the advantages of this battery and how
brilliant it was, how much in love he was with this battery, he'd already taken
it home to meet his mother and was planning to get married to it in the near
future.
This was followed by another infomercial about a wireless
charging gadget. Voiced by the same presenter it went on about how all
batteries are a load of crap, there's not a good one on the planet, and only a
half-wit would every use anything that was battery powered.
I wonder if the makers of these two adverts realise this
presenter is clearly happy to say that shit is sugar if paid enough.
I watched an episode of "Shameless" then
had a quick look at the Internet. There's a particular group I follow on
Facebook. Ostensibly offering help on garden ponds to beginners it seems to be
filled with keyboard warriors who wait for someone to admit to ignorance, and
then make a point of trying to humiliate them.
I wonder what these people get out of it?
Half a dozen different (and unconnected) friends had
also posted various seemingly random photos on their Facebook pages all with
the caption "if you know, you know". I had no idea what any of
them were talking about; I certainly didn't know.
I set off to work. As I drove down the road the bin lorry
was coming up the other way. Rather than deliberately parking in the middle of
the narrowest part of the road to deliberately obstruct the traffic, today the
bin lorry had done the decent thing and pulled over to one side where there was
space to pass. What was that all about?
As I drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing the
head honcho of Google UK who didn't really come over as well as she might have
done. She made great show of how her company (and she personally) took
great pains to ensure that smut and lies were kept off the internet. And then
shot herself in the foot by admitting that because of end-to-end encryption no
one has any idea what nonsense is being posted on-line until someone else makes
a complaint.
And there was talk of how much the government is spending
on housing asylum seekers, and how the government is going to stop using hotels
and start using tents to house
them. On the one hand I have nothing but sympathy for people
fleeing persecution and running for their lives. But on the other hand there
are plenty of safe places that they run through on their way to the UK.
Meanwhile rather than sending a whole load of top secret
stuff to the Americans, the Ministry of Defence has emailed it to the Russian's
best friends instead. Whoops!
I wonder if anyone will get sacked over this? Somehow I
doubt it.
Work was work; I came home and took the dogs down to
Orlestone where (unusually) the woods were crawling with dogs that
couldn’t be trusted off of the lead despite being a mile into the wood. The
puppies ran toward the first pair that we saw and those dogs started snapping
and snarling and growling and straining at their leads. I blew the whistle and
the pups came straight back. We took a turn off from the path into the woods
away from them, and as we went so the people with the nasty dogs started a
serious argument. “Why can’t you train our dogs to do that… did you see how
good they were… our dogs are an embarrassment…” I did feel rather smug.
Five minutes later I heard a fuss behind me. “F..k!
F..k! F..k! F..k!” some thug was shouting as his greyhound and the puppies
were sniffing each other. Again I blew the whistle; again my dogs came to me. “Thank
f...k for that” announced the thug, who then walked up to his dog, put it on
a lead and walked off in the opposite direction.
And just as we came toward the final stretch of the walk we
met grannie, two children and two dogs. The puppies went to say hello; their
dogs said hello to the puppies. All was heigh, ho, pip and dandy (to coin a
phrase) when grannie loudly announced that she would let this gentleman and
his dogs come past as her dogs are very scared. The children with her commented
that the dogs weren’t scared at all (clearly they weren’t). Grannie
announced that the dogs were scared whether they looked it or not. I blew the
whistle and the puppies came away. Grannie’s dogs wanted to come too…
If you aren’t going to let your dogs off of the lead there
are plenty of places to take them. TO the beach, to the park… why go where you
know you are going to have the arse with dogs that *can* be trusted off
the lead?
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