Lunchtime Freakiness

Something bad happened yesterday lunchtime, something predictable happened today. Today, the bad was on my mind and not the predictable. Because it was predictable, I wanted to be ready for what happened today, but I wasn't when it actually happened. This is the way of the world. We react to what goes on around us.

3 things.

I haven't bothered to write anything for ages, again. In fact I was sort of considering giving up and never coming here again. But there again... how else can I share the grumpy old man annoyance that results from the fact that already, even though it is only the start of September, the firework season has started. Surely it can therefore only be a matter of weeks before excessive Christmas lights appear.

Second on my list of reasons to bother writing something is the fact that another member of Pink Floyd has gone and died. Somewhat annoying this event occured (or was reported) shortly after the following conversation occured at work today:

Me: I went to see a Pink Floyd tribute band at the weekend.
Co-Worker: Yeh? Any good?
Me: Not bad. Of course even if hell freezes over and the real thing got back together it would cost a small fortune to go see them. And not a fiver each.
Co-Worker: Are they even all still alive?
Me: Yeh, all except Sid, but he doesn't count.

So, Richard Wright, a great player and an much overlooked part of the "classic" Floyd sound, sorry. Enjoy that great gig in the sky. And I really didn't mean to jinx you.

Finally, a moan about Summer. It was pointless and shite.

This is an appeal on behalf of...

...me.

My other half wants to get married. To me, of all people.

I am trying to work out an "innovative" and "creative" way of funding this event, preferably one which doesn't involve the letters "A" "P" and "R" or anything which refers to "your house is at risk if..."

Clearly I also don't fancy getting hitched in an orange suit with "sponsored by B&Q" written on the back.

Apparently the average British wedding now weighs in at more than £15000. This is some £16000 more than I have to spend. To put that into some kind of perspective, if a pound sterling was a pound in weight, this would bigger than a double decker bus or possibly, and I haven't checked, a whale. Definitely it would be bigger than a small whale, I'm not sure about a blue whale. It's bigger than an elephant, that's for sure.

Why I Don't Post Often.

I read this article the other day, which for anybody who can't be bothered to read it is about traditional typewriters and the fact that they are not only still available but that some folk still like to use them. One of the reasons that some give for continuing to use such an archaic piece of equipment is the lack of the ability to change your mind and delete stuff. And that is why I don't post often. I have often written. Then changed my mind and deleted and rewritten. Then quit, then started again. Then walked off, got a beer and come back and changed my mind about a bit and... well, in the end gone off and done something frankly more interesting instead. Or just gone to bed. Or should that be and gone to bed?

The other reason I've not posted anything is that all the stuff I've really wanted to post about, the things that really make me angry, that frustrate and threaten fatal spleen-venting, are things I haven't really been able to post about.

Could an un-vented spleen be the cause of my recent waist size increase?

Overload

There's so much going on I am totally lost for choice as to what to spout bilge about. So, er... rather than having to choose and potentially risk being indecisive I'll just ignore it all and write nothing.

Mr Blue Sky

I've just made a copy of "Out Of The Blue" by ELO to go in the car. This record reminds me of sitting in my back garden as a child putting stickers in my Panini "Football '78" sticker album :o) Oh for a time machine...

What's the bloody point?

I come on here, I try to write free flowing witty stuff, and every time, without fail, I get error messages or hassle. And 98.3% of the time I decide that instead of bothering to correct it, I will delete it and press "random article" on Wikipedia instead. This is what we in the IT industry call "a sack of festering shite". Bah.