Here we are again, happy as can be!
Updated: Jul 14, 2020
I'm here. And I might be all alone.
After getting to day 101 of theinsulationreport.com, my blog about our time in COVID confinement, I thought it time to move on to broader issues. But first I took a couple of weeks off for basic maintenance. I stripped down, cleaned and oiled my constituent parts and put myself back together again. Unfortunately, as any of you who have had the pleasure of assembling Ikea furniture will know, there always seem to be a few bits left over. Life might be simpler without a frontal cortex but without one I cannot be sure my lingam thingum is in the right place. I'm sure some kind person will let me know.
Qwerty qwerty azerty qwerty. That was my warm ups.
Athletes do them. Opera singers do them. I see no reason why bloggers should be left out.
Right. We're off!
If there is any particular subject you would like me discuss please send me a mail with the title 'Rant about This' and I will rap on your theme. How many words rhyme with rich? I shall post once or twice a week and if you sign up you will be informed by mail when a new inanity appears.
I am also sending a mail to everybody who subscribed to theinsulationreport.com in the hope they will join us here; so if you were bored silly by The Insulation Report I suggest you pretend you never got the mail. That is what I intend doing.
For want of any existing theme requests (not your fault - you only just got access) I thought I would mention today something a friend mentioned to me in passing.
The 'half in half out' world we are inhabiting.
Peter (his parent's were big Beatrix Potter fans) popped out to a furniture outlet in a nearby town to do some shopping for chairs. He and his wife Carole have been standing for the last several weeks. Come to think of it I think Peter misheard. Carole didn't say she 'couldn't stand anymore'. She said she 'couldn't stand it anymore'. Either way it doesn't matter because she managed to get Peter out of the house.
When Peter got to the store it was all hand sanitizer, compulsory masks, social distancing and one meter fifty markings at the tills. Everybody was toeing the line - quite literally.
He then drove home past bar and restaurant terraces wedged chockablock with people, all without masks, doing their best to glue themselves to their nearest neighbours.
Some kind of Orwellian double-think would seem to be at work. In certain environments we respect the COVID risk and take appropriate measures but in others, especially where drinks and flirting are involved, we seem prepared to take time out from rational behaviour. Just like you are doing now in reading this, but with greater risks.
Lady in the house
On the subject of flirting, my dog Alfie has given me strict instructions. I am to do so unremittingly and outrageously until we get a woman in this house. She has had enough of 24/7 one-on-one confinement with me (a bit like Carole with Peter - but Alfie isn't big on chairs) and is desperate to dilute me. Consequently I am now on Tinder, Bumble and Happn under the identity 'Brad P.'
We all know that I am not really 1 meter 90 and it is not strictly true that I am only 47; using scanned Polaroids might have given the game away there. But at least my demands are perfectly reasonable. Unlike those men looking for a 27 year old blond heiress with long legs, natural boobs and a passion for watching football. If they had a woman like that how could they possibly forget where they put her?
There is one lady who 'liked' me; she would appear to be elegant, intelligent, pretty and 62. After some 'chat' I sent her the address of my previous blog in order that she could get a good impression of who and what I am.
I fear that she might indeed have got an impression but she is qualifying it as other than 'good'. She seems to prefer Alfie. I am considering this as a step in the right direction, even if it does involve me sleeping downstairs on a foam rubber cushion. You will be informed of developments on this front as and when they occur.