Friday, February 24, 2006

TGI Friday

I've recently been introduced to a new game. It's probably not new to most people - it's on its second incarnation - but is is to me. And to Alun who brought it to my attention after he'd been enslaved by it, thanks to Angelo.

It's called Super Collapse II. And it is addictive, oh, my word. You can download free trials from various places on the net. Alun has downloaded so many they all recognise him now and refuse to let him have any more. So he plays through me. 'Red left, green bomb coming, no, wait, now!' (This is in our tea break, you understand.) I am a nervous wreck by the time I have finished.

Alun's top score is over 1 million. Yip, that's right, 1 and six noughts. And he's only been playing it for three weeks. You're probably all sitting there quietly gloating because that is peanuts to what you've scored, but, hey, I'm easily impressed.

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To get back to men and rudeness, I was called a brazen hussy today. And I was only talking about rugby!

Talking of which this could be either a remarkably good weekend or one of the worst on record. I am in faith for it being good. If Scott Johnson really is the man behind the success then it should be no problem. Even without Alfie.

Still I shall be glad when Sunday has come and gone.

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Eye test tomorrow. First thing, which was a bit of bad planning on my part. My eyes don't wake up until some time after the rest of me. I will probably end up with a prescription for glasses like the bottom of milk bottles.

You don't see many milk bottles these days. We still have milk delivered but I guess we are one of the few families that does. Probably won't be long until the milkman joins the red telephone box as an attraction in someone's garden.

You don't see police boxes any more either. We did see one in London, or was it New York? Doctor Who should perhaps transmogrify the outside of the Tardis to help it to fit in more. Although it hardly fits in in most places that it lands in. I do like David Tennant though. He was brilliant in Blackpool and Casanova. Christopher Eccleswaite or whatever his name was, had that sort of manic grin. Which reminds of a vicar I saw today. His photo was on a website. He looked decidedly smarmy. Brrrr. I wouldn't want to go to his church. He was the second Christian today that I took an instant dislike to (I am assuming he was a Christian although with the c of e being what it is, who knows). The first one phoned me. Asked who he was speaking to and then used my name like he knew me. Brrr again.

It's not that I'm picky, you understand. I am very tolerant and loving and all-things-Christian, except on Fridays. And occasional other days.

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