2011 — 5 July: Tuesday
There's a not surprisingly inverse relationship between the state of my mouth ulcers and the state of my feelings of goodwill (or otherwise) to the world.1 I may even be chirpy enough to whizz over to the care home later today. Now, there's a thought.
Last night's double-bill of video distraction began with the reliable "Grosse Pointe Blank" (I love the performances of Minnie Driver and Joan Cusack) and ended with "No strings attached"2 (and nearly all its extras, too). There is (of course) nothing to dislike about Natalie Portman (providing one avoids any "Star Wars" film made after the original trilogy) and Ashton Kutcher is continuing to up his game (as they say). Again, some of the supporting performances greatly enhanced the film.
Meanwhile — at 08:55 — the sun shines on, a cuppa is down to the requisite temperature, and there will doubtless be some breakfast in due course.
I'm just back...
... from a speedy expotition to my favourite toy shop, returning with the lowest-capacity hard drive I've bought in quite a while. Having dithered quite long enough over whether to take the SSD leap I have chickened out and decided to stick with rotation as my modus operandi for a bit longer — quite a few megabits longer. But though my new Western Digital Velociraptor may only be 150GB, it doesn't half go round corners (as it were). 10,000 rpm, heh?
I'm predicting a clean re-installation of the world's favourite operating system at some point in the next few days. What larks, Pip ol' chum, what larks.
Meanwhile, it's a nice symmetrical 12:21 and well past time for my next cuppa.
Somewhat later...
... I'm again just back, this time from a visit to dear Mama, followed by a cuppa with Mike in Winklechestershire. We've decided the route for tomorrow's walk, which will include a welcome pint at the halfway point. I'm half-listening to the main BBC radio news, but am not impressed by the shocked tone in which the senior media regulator basically seemed to be saying that she can't do much regulating if those she seeks to regulate tell porkie pies. Perish the thought. It's enough to get you to send an email to the Culture Secretary suggesting that perhaps that nice Mr Murdoch's media empire really maybe shouldn't be allowed to grow even bigger and more powerful.