Zero Hour

• I have no real desire to watch the television today. I know that's weird, you'd have thought I'd be sitting there shouting, ranting and raving at the screen, but what's the point? She's being cremated therefore I can't even look forward to dancing on her grave.
• I recently had a long and 'interesting' exchange of words with a man who I knew when I was younger, who seemed to think that spouting bullshit that he'd learned from the Daily Mail was an appropriate way to behave and talk in front of impressionable idiots. After very calmly explaining to him the error of his ways and then explaining it to him again in words with small amounts of syllables, he revealed that I could try and persuade him that he's wrong, but he doesn't care if he is. The subject was obviously politics and his belief that the Tories look after us and the country is over run with dole scroungers who are not only stealing your money but also eyeing up your under-age daughter as a possible sex slave and if they're not then it's the 'fucking Poles'. However, it really was the fact that he didn't care that annoyed me. He admitted that he chooses to believe what suits his purposes and he really doesn't care about others. My final words to him were, 'And there's your real Thatcher legacy...'
• The interview went okay, but I don't think I got the job.
• There were two wooden boxes in the shed; they have been there for ever and were also in the shed in the previous abode. We have had ducks for nearly 15 years all told and it dawned on me on Sunday that the boxes + the ducks = nesting area to safely collect up all the eggs in one place and save them being stolen, broken or laid in the bloody pond. First morning: Five eggs - four of them laid in the boxes. Second morning - ditto. This morning - ditto again. I think that worked then.
• Speaking of the ducks; I found a severely damaged frog in the duck run yesterday. Poor bugger looked red raw (from hours of attempting to be swallowed most likely) and I thought it was dead until I noticed it was still breathing; so I carefully lifted it up and put it in the 'safe' pond. I expected to find it dead this morning either floating or at the bottom of the pond, but it was no where to be found, so I'm being optimistic that it survived duck assault and wasn't eaten by a passing fox who saw it struggling.
• We have new neighbours. They're moving in right now. They look young and I see problems ahead with the sexually-explicit family over car parkage. I wonder if they know someone died in there...
• I met a complete twat while walking the dogs on Monday and despite having him in my face over my 'dangerous' dogs (Ness thought he looked nice and jumped up at him, which is wrong, but FFS, she's a tiny little thing who loves people) and how I should keep them on a lead. I amazed myself by not reacting and frankly I was a) entitled to and b) bigger than him; but I just walked away. A woman saw the entire thing and said to me as I walked past her, "What's got up his arse?" like she's seen him before.
• An Australian won the US Masters. That is actually a first.
• TV presenters should be encouraged to badger MPs especially when they evade questions that people want answers to.
• It's miserable out but the forecast is for warm weather today. That's W A R M in case you've forgotten what that word means.
• The trainer of Black Caviar, the Australian record-breaking horse (mare - sprinter) looks just like one of those dole scroungers Gideon is going on about. It's a shame she's retired, I would have loved to have seen her trainer in the Royal Enclosure at Ascot this year, with his tracksuit, trainers and bling.
• Having finished The Shining, the wife and I decided to watch the TV adaptation - starring Steven Webber and Rebecca DeMornay - which has a screenplay written by Stephen King. For starters it looks like a copy from a video rather than a DVD. Secondly, the acting is absolutely atrocious - no wonder Rebecca's sister went onto have the acting career - and while it is far closer to the story than Kubrick's abomination, the guy directing it - Mick Garris - sent shivers down my spine for all the wrong reasons. This guy must have some of King's secrets hidden away because he's been responsible for a few of king's adaptations and pretty much all of them have been a pile of shit. We watched this particular one when it was first released; at least we think we did because we're not recognising much at the moment (or that could just be its so bad we flushed it from our memories).
• http://mitsybanu.tumblr.com/
• Today I might start re-reading Lisey's Story, which is a King book I read just 7 years ago and I can't remember anything about it at all apart from a piebald monster. I am currently listening to This Will Destroy You and considering my current mental state it seems apt. My own personal output is horrendous. I've been more than aware that I'm sliding towards a period of depression (I can spot all the tell-tale signs you see) or have maybe even slid into it without really being aware. I suppose if I could talk about the events that led me up to this point I might get some cathartic benefit, but I can't. Sometimes winning something is as hollow as an old dead tree...