I have something brewing on money, time and death in my head but it’s not fully formed. Instead, here is a mish-mash of bloggers who beat me to the best ideas, and who probably did a better job of them all anyway..
On Bozza’s delight at buying second hand water cannons he is not (yet) allowed to use. If he has gone ahead and bought them, then he is certain he will be allowed – perhaps required – to use them.
On the Trojan Horse schools, in which those who come to this country believe that the warm and sunny one they left behind is better than the cold and wet one they took such trouble to move to.
On Feminism. I’m all for it. You ladies are welcome to do all the work. I’ll just sit around in my dressing gown and slippers drinking all day and get the frozen pie and oven chips in for when you come home. Then demand new shoes and pretend I have no idea how to put petrol in the car.
And there is something about a kick-ball game in South America that is getting the news all excited, but I cannot get up any interest in the matter.
It’s one of those nights, the night before the night before the coveted Day Off, that I just want to get over and done with. Tomorrow is a tough one, the next day is ‘see no sunlight’ day because tomorrow night is a big whisky night. A very big one.
Tonight just feels ‘meh’.