Swishy

Ben was awake at 4am. Yep, jetlag, poor guy. At the other end of the day, he was in bed by 20.00.
Today it has poured with rain all day long, but we were able to go for a long walk in the rain, wellies, hoods up. I love it, I'm like a happy little duck out there. We met some walkers in full Gortex rainwear and brollies up, presumably to protect the rainwear. Lightweights.

So, with the aggravating programming scheduling we have on TV here, Six Degrees is finally coming back to our screens after a gap of....three months? Not quite as abysmal as the August - April mid-series gap in one of the best shows on TV, Entourage.

Mr. Miaowington, what a fabulous name for a gay man's mother's cat. It should definitely spawn a spate of similar cat naming. I just won't say which TV Gay man's mother. Let's just say that 'swishy' is the new gay.

I have a box of Cadbury's creme eggs from the UK and they don't taste sickeningly sweet, this is brilliant, and odd, because virtually everything tastes sickeningly sweet to me at the moment.

I couldn't help a wry smile at the idea that British immigration officials are going to be text-messaging visitors to the country whose visas are about to run out. See, even within Britain - where, I would argue that compared with citizens of other countries, Brits like to follow rules, they have a sense of citizenship - there are criminals and law-breakers. Now graft onto that a bunch of people whose intentions are to stay illegally in Britain, and I would imagine they might, ooh, say, not give immigration their mobile phone numbers. And why would they? Do intending illegals arrive in Britain with world phones? Hmm, seems unlikely somehow, I'm thinking more along the lines of, somewhere down the line they acquire a pay-as-you-go phone and then fail to ring up the immigration department and say,
'Here we are old chap, just got a phone, thought I'd give you a bell to let you know the number, so that you can give me a tinkle just in case I forget when I need to go back.'
Who knows, it could happen.

Now God knows who the hell watches reality TV, but we now have some old tosh called 'Are you as smart as a fifth-grader?' (Year 6). Well, here's the heads up. If you are so stupendously stupid as to put your name forward to go on this show, then the answer is a resounding no. And here's another heads-up. Not that I've watched the show, but people keep telling me about it and some of them have managed to watch as much as ten minutes before having to turn off because brain rot has set in. Intelligence and General Knowledge are not the same thing. Intelligence and being able to remember what useless bit of maths you were doing in grade 5 are not the same thing. Intelligence and not doing something so monumentally stupid as to qualify for nomination for a Darwin award do have some connection.

Swishy it ain't.