Sunday 21 April 2019

Bereft of Inspiration.

I think I must be suffering from heatstroke because I can’t think of anything silly to say tonight, and what value can the night hold if it can’t give you something silly to say?

I might mention that two things are irritating me mightily at the moment, though: the worthless YouTube recommendations spewing forth in substantial quantity from the mighty and much glitch-ridden Google machine, and the way in which young patients’ parents are represented in House. American parents can’t really be such a dumb, arrogant, presumptuous bunch of control freaks, can they? I wouldn’t know, of course, since I never had one.

But at least there’s a new owl shown up in the Shire. I haven’t seen it yet, just heard its strange call. I’m hoping it’s Errol come home to wreak mayhem.

In other news, I received a letter today from the UK Minister for Business, Energy & Industrial Strategy. I haven’t opened it yet because I’ve been irritated quite enough for one day. I expect I’ll take the plunge tomorrow.

Currently self-medicating in the company of Vaughan Williams’s Charterhouse Suite for Strings. Did you know that his second wife was around 40 years his junior? Should I comment further? Probably not.

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