19 May 2014 (Monday) - Never Confused

Despite a rather physically challenging weekend spent going up and down the South Downs I didn't sleep as well as I thought I might last night. But I slept better than I have done over the last year or so; I suppose in the New World Order of CPAP blowing air up my nose, five hours sleep is good.
I got up, cleaned out a beer barrel and got it sterilising in readiness for later, and then watched more "Game of Thrones" over brekkie. It's quite a good show with plausible characters, but it's getting rather tricky to keep count of who has porked who. And I do wonder just how long they can maintain such a high death rate among the leading characters.

To work; I listened to the news as I drove. My piss boiled whe I heard that crackpots are going to allow children (some as young as nine years old) to choose to take drugs which will delay the onset of puberty so that they can decide whether to grow up as they were born to, or whether they want to undergo gender reassignment procedures before hormones make nature's choice for them.
You really have to question whether whatever half-wit came up with this idea has ever actually spent any time in the company of nine year old children. Whilst I am all in favour of non discrimination against anyone over matters of gender and sexuality, the idea of trying to ask such serious questions of a nine year old is frankly ridiculous.

There was another rather laughable article about a competition/challenge (with a ten million pound prize) prize being launched to solve one of the greatest scientific problems facing the world today. That problem being.... well, the competition organisers don't know what the greatest scientific problems facing the world today actually are. But (to their credit) they are going to stage a public consultation to get some suggestions.
Bearing in mind that the public being asked is the same public which holds "X-Factor" and "Britain's Got Talent" in such high regard, I dread to think which matter of piddling triviality will be declared to be the greatest scientific problem facing the world today.
However I suspect that if the public are to be asked, it will involve Ant and Dec.

The Leader of the Opposition was then interviewed live on the radio. He was blathering on about proposed increases to the minimum wage. In years gone by (as a confirmed leftie) I would have applauded his every word. Nowadays... I suppose he means well. But I've no idea what he was actually saying; I wasn't paying attention. He didn't hold my attention.
On reflection I suppose the Prime Minister also means well and he doesn't hold my attention either. (I won't extend my leniency to the Deputy Prime minister...)

I stopped off in Morrisons for some apples and bananas. I got some armpit-squirt too. Morrison's own stuff was less than half the price of the posh brands, so my pits will be Morrison flavoured for the next few weeks. Shaving gel was BOGOF so I got loads of that. We all like a bit of BOGOF.

To work, where I did some (work, that is). At lunchtime I went off to the car park and had my sax practice.
Oh dear..
As I got my sax out I was harangued by a gaggle of passing Eastern Europeans who demanded to know why I hadn't got a parking ticket stuck on my car. I explained that we were in a staff car park and that I had a staff parking permit. My foreign friends demanded to be told where they could get a staff parking permit. I told them. They didn't like what I said. They weren't at all impressed by the fact that the permits were only available to staff; they really didn't like that you have to pay for said permits. It transpired that these people resented having to pay to use the regular car park, and they thought it discriminatory that those who didn't want to pay to go in the regular car park couldn't park for free in the staff car park.
I suggested they might whinge to senior management and sent them off in the general direction of the other end of the hospital. I then practiced various tunes rather badly for half an hour, and just as I was packing up I got a torrent of abuse from a young mother with a toddler. She claimed that the toddler had just toddled all the way (she never did say from where) to come to listen to me, and how dare I pack up just as the audience was forming.
I took a deep breath and explained politely that I was only practicing; not performing. And also that my sax playing is rather dreadful at best. However in the interests of keeping the pubic sweet I offered to give the littlun a private rendition. I asked the kiddie if he would like that and he burst into tears and buried his head in his mother's skirt.
It was at that point that I walked away.

Once home I took "Furry Face TM" for a walk. It was a beautiful evening; today had been the hottest day of the year so far, and Ashford had been the third hottest place in the UK today. We went round the park.
Once "er indoors TM" set off bowling I got the latest batch of beer into the barrel, and sat down to watch more "Game of Thrones". "Blondie Dragon-girl" is long overdue a flopping-out...

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