ITEM: Yesterday morning I did my first gardening stint of the year, an hour or so of hoeing the drive, which was sufficient to remind me of why I hate this most futile of activities (the weeds are only going to grow back).
In the past I’ve put forward the theory that there’s a correlation between gardening and S&M, and a while ago I saw something on TV about a firm of cleaners that only employed people with OCD.
So, if there are any submissives reading this, please feel free any time you wish to pop round and spend an hour or so trimming my herbaceous borders etc., and I’ll be glad to recompense you for services rendered with six of the best, even though that sort of thing really isn’t my bag.
ITEM: Personally, I find the whole wossygate thing a distraction from more serious matters in the real world.
As for instance, a recent report that police are investigating the burglary of a house in Wiltshire. ‘I don’t understand,’ said owner Mr Keith Lemon, ‘the only thing they took was my collection of vintage science fiction paperbacks.’
Well done to anyone who has no idea what wossygate is, and bonus points if you don’t know why, in certain circles, the second paragraph is cause for extreme alarm.
ITEM: I see the genre of poverty porn continues with another TV show in which minor celebrities, such as Boris Johnson’s sister, get to spend a week with poor people and see how they exist, before they go back to their lives of pampering and privilege to forget all about ‘those people’.
Personally, I think there’s plenty of scope to make it more interesting by introducing an element of competition. Let’s make it an open ended series, with a huge cash prize for the celebrity who endures the longest.
I’d love to see the looks of torment on their puppy dog faces, as they decide between crying uncle and letting the money slip through their fingers or yet another week of eating cold baked beans for every meal and spending the day in bed to keep warm.
Yes, let’s eat the rich by all means, but torture them a little first as it will make the meat more tender.
ITEM: I’m a textbook anal retentive when it comes to electronic communication, keeping just about every email that isn’t spam in named folders, and I occasionally make up stupid names for the folders that signify the role of these people in my life or the thing I remember most about them, as with The Imaginary Girlfriend and Cinema Buddy (the friend I used to go to the cinema with).
So, the other week I’m scrolling down the list of folders and see one named “Sexy Lady”, and I have no idea who the hell that is or memory of creating it, and as the folder was empty I guess now I never will know. Most peculiar.
ITEM: On this day two weeks ago, The Actual Girlfriend (TAG, as distinct from TIG) and I went to see a performance of Tchaikovsky’s ballet The Sleeping Beauty at the Theatre Royal in Norwich.
And, since you asked, it was all rather wonderful, but the thing that struck me was this – the trouble all kicks off because they hold a party and forget to invite the ‘bad’ fairy.
And it ends with a royal wedding and another party, and who isn’t visible in the crowd of revellers…
I guess the moral of the story is that some people never learn from their mistakes.
And, for the record, my sympathies are entirely with the ‘bad’ fairy, even if she does somewhat overreact to the snub.
ITEM: Am I the only one who finds the whole LinkedIn thing baffling?
I can’t remember how I came to have an account there, but now just about every third day I’m getting endorsed by people I don’t know for talents I haven’t got, or if I do have them it’s hard to conjecture how these strangers know I do.
Is it supposed to be a tit for tat thing, and I’m letting myself down by not responding in kind and recognising their talent for tight rope walking over a busy thoroughfare or breeding aardvarks?