I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

So, recently, the county of Albany NY, passed a law prohibiting restaurants from selling any food made with transfatty oils.

Now, NY state lawmakers and tobacco activists, want to make it illegal for anyone to smoke in their car, if there is a child on board. Okay, why not just ban cigarettes, altogether? Cigarette prohibition? I don't smoke, but I really feel sorry for people who do. I mean, these people smoke around their kids at home--when I was wee, I used to sit on my dad's lap, as he sat in his chair, chain-smoking his Pall-Mall's and reading the evening paper. What are these people going to do, install CCTV cameras in every smoker's home, too?

Yet, the laws for drunk drivers--even tho' they are getting stiffer, like jailing parents who give their kids booze, raising the legal age to 21, "surprise" DWI road block patrols (which are stupidly announced days in advance, to avoid getting sued for entrapment) and carding everyone--regardless of age...yes, I'm 46, and when I bought some wine cooler a few months back, I got asked for my I.D--anyway, the laws are well enforced--but judges are too often way too lenient. Just a few years ago, a local man was driving drunk on a mountain road, took out a mum and her two kids--and the judge let him off with a suspended sentence! Why? Because he'd had no prior offences and...well, the judge was an ignorant arse. What other expliation could there be?

Ah, see? Good thing I didn't go on the lake cruise--just checked the local radar...they're having a big storm on the lake, even as I write this. More big storms coming in--really getting dark out there, and it's not even 7.0pm yet...Lake George is 32 miles long, so it's not exactly a small lake..and it can get rather nasty during a storm. If it's bad enough, despite the size of the boat, they may have to turn 'round and come back in, 'cause that lake can get pretty rough if the wind comes in over 40mph.

Everybody yodel!!

Well, yours truly is honestly knackered. Sort of sad to be missing out on the lake cruise--but office do's, unless they're mandatory, have never really been the highlight of any of my days--ever. I suppose, it might me different, if I loved my job, or worked in a close-knit group or something...but, tho' I have a few people I chat with at the office, I don't really have any friends there, to speak of. So, I'd have to spend the night making small talk--which I can do just fine, without too much discomfort, but...not my idea of a good time.

I mean, if I have to go on a lake cruise, I'd rather either go by myself, or go with one or two good friends or family--or even with a group I'm close to, like at college--at least in college, we had more things in common to chat about. It's not that I'm at a loss to do small talk--it's...well, I guess it's become so rare for me to have a good conversation, that I just throughly dislike banal small talk. I guess this may sound daft, but to me, a good conversation is a real joy.

Gah, I am just an old stick in the mud...forget about turning into my late mum, I'm turning into my late granny--not that I really remember my dad's mum...'cept her smile--she had a brilliant smile. All my grandparents were dead, by the time I was six--mum's mother died in the late 40's, and her dad died when I was about five or six. Dad's father was killed in a boiler explosion, in 1924--just before dad was born, and his mum, a deaf-mute, died when I was about four, I think.

Moving on,

I saw an advert on Blog.uk's homepage, advertising a hot pink waterless toilet--and I can't help but wonder:

Who out there goes 'round thinking, "What I really need, is a hot pink waterless toilet."
And, how do you clean that waterless loo, when you are having a bit of a tummy bug...? Ewwww! No, thanks.

It's gray overcast and quite warm here. A few pop-up showers and storms rambling about the nearby mountains and valleys, but nothing here as of yet. Bit humid, but there's been a stiff breeze, on and off, so not so bad.

So, gotta' go make dinner--left over chicken and gravy over mashed, with peas. Don't know how the mashed are going to be, as I have to make them without milk---I forgot to buy milk, and I'm just too dang hot and tired--did I mention that I'm tired? Well..just too much bother at the mo', to walk the four blocks down to the store.

I'm going to eat then go to bed for several hours. Need the rest. Hope you all have a good night.

This one's for all my male blog pals:

If Doctor Who were written by Jade Goody:

In this episode, the Doctor lands at an American airport, and must save himself from a pack of Jevhovah's Witnesses.

In this episode, the Doctor is nearly defeated by an impacted molar.

This episode, titled "snog-fest" involves the Doctor snogging everyone with a pulse, for the entire 40-some odd minutes.

Well, my Drabble-a-thon is at a complete stand-still. I'm only getting a couple of reads a day, so I guess I won't even be making the new reduced final goal of 250 pounds. I'll still write--I've committed myself to this, and am not planning on stopping it--but I'm done promoting it, now.

It's just too discouraging, I'm sorry to say. I mean, I didn't expect to make much--but no one has made a donation in 2 weeks, and only 2 to 4 people a day (zero one day) on average are reading the blog, so obviously nothing I do is going to work to bring people in.

I guess there's just to many people out there, raising money for Accord, in memory of Helen McDonald, actor David Tennant's (Dr Who) Mother--which is lovely, I think. I don't regret choosing Accord--but maybe I should have picked something else? I don't know. I never expected this to take off, but I had hoped that I'd get more readers, even tho' I suck as a fiction writer (I'm an essayist and journalist, not a story-teller).

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Meh, I'm just tired and a bit sad, today. I'm worried about freeasthewind. I've been there, and been on the cusp of being there--four of five times in the past two years--so I know the heartache and dread of homelessness quite intimately. It's no picnic, let me tell you---it's the worst feeling in the world. Not even being told I was going blind, was as bad as being told I was being evicted/foreclosed--when I was nearly pennyless.

The only worse thing that ever happened to me, than facing homelessness, was having to be the one that signed the paper shutting off mum's life support.

I was so exhausted last night, I nearly fell down--no lie. I hadn't slept much in four nights, and tho' I took yesterday afternoon off (make up on Saturday), my landlord was here, most of the afternoon, installing the new balcony railings, so no chance for a lie-down, like I'd planned.

Everyone keeps telling me how pale and awful I look. Except for Normalguy, he says I'm cute.

Well, have to get ready for work. Thank God I begged off my employer's lake cruise, tonight...I'm coming home at five and crashing, thanks very much. Do not disturb on pain of death, ha-ha.

Well, because they changed my hours on Tuesday without prior notice, no clean clothes--I had planned on going to the laundromat on Tuesday--so I had to wash out some tees and undies in the bathroom sink yesterday, and dry them on the new balcony railings--hope they're dry. No clean jeans, but I have a pair or two that are marginal, and that'll have to do.

I'm gonna' be sleepwalking through my phone scripts today, methinks. Was last night. Seven hours--I'll be so knackered when I get home--hell, I'm knackered now!

I must confess, I'm very worried about Freeasthewind. I hope she doesn't do anything drastic. I hope she's spending the day trying to get help, and not sinking into depression.

Anyone who doesn't grasp the terror of homelessness, should be knelling on the floor, thanking God. It's one of the scariest things any human being can go through--not even terminal illness, in my opinion, is as frightening as being alone and facing homelessness--losing all that you hold dear. If you haven't been through it, you simply cannot completely grasp the horror, let me tell you.

And I would call anyone who says otherwise, to this, a total ignoramus. Period.

Now I get a e-mail this morning, that some git has added a "trackback" to an old post of mine. He's pushing "Roulette Killer" or some piece of crap.

http://www.usfreeads.com/889878-cls.html

Arse! Feck! Why me???

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The jackarse simply signs his comments "Thanks, B." Which makes absolutely no sense, whatsoever.

Just finished #26, titled, "The Dog that Diddled." You'll get the title when you read the story. You can view it at: www.nbgolash.blogspot.com/

To find out more about Accord Hospice, visit: www.accord.org.uk

Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon.
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

In astonomy all (nearly all) the characters in the rhyme are visible in the night sky in the month of April (planting season). This was a rhyme to remind early Europeans (primarily those in England) it was time to plant the crops.
CAT - Leo
FIDDLE - Lyra
COW - Taurus
MOON - literally the MOON
LITTLE DOG - Canis Minor
THE DISH - Constellation Crater
THE SPOON - The Big Dipper (Ursa Major)

This has been floating about the internet, of late:

A new priest at his first mass was so nervous that he could hardly speak. After mass, he asked the Monsignor how he had done.

Sip the vodka; don't gulp.
There are 10 commandments, not 12.
There are 12 disciples, not 10.
Jesus was consecrated, not constipated.
Jacob wagered his donkey; he did not "bet his ass."
We do not refer to Jesus Christ as the late J.C.
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are not referred to as daddy, junior, and the spook.
David slew Goliath; he did not kick the shit outta him.
When David was hit by a stone and knocked off his donkey, don't say he was stoned off his ass.
We don't refer to the cross as the "Big T."
When Jesus broke the bread at the last supper, he said, "Take this and eat it for it is my body." He did not say "Eat me."
The Virgin Mary is not called "Mary with the cherry."
The recommended grace before a meal is not "Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub, yeah God!"
There will be a taffy pulling contest at St. Peter's, not a Peter pulling contest at St. Taffy's.