31
October
Around
seven weeks till Crimble guys n gals. Then the New Year starts off again; I
wonder what’s in store for all of us.
Jan went
out to move our car down to outside our flat and while she was out there she
met up to Roy, the guy who lives apposite us. It seems he had another stroke
the other day. Another stroke? We didn’t actually know he’d had one before, but
we’re not surprised really. He is a very heavy smoker and we’ve seen him in the
summer sat at his table reading with an open bottle of scotch beside him. Later
I saw him as he came back home and I was a tad shocked at how he looked. He
used to be a smartly dressed upstanding man. Today he wasn’t so smart and he’s
bending at the neck now and shuffling more than walking. Age catches up with us
all eventually.
Flu jab
done yesterday without any hassle, and the nurse was impressed with my one and
only tattoo. All it is three little words; Multi Organ Donor. I would encourage
everyone to do something similar, or at least register with organ donation
people and carry a card. There are so many people waiting for organs, and far
too few people donating. Please, please, register and give that gift of life.
Morning
coffee biscuits; I’ve been looking for them for some time now and after my jab
yesterday evening we drove down to B&M in town looking for a shelving unit
Jan wants. They didn’t the unit, but did have the biscuits. I now have seven
packs in the cupboard. They are larger than the normal one and they don’t taste
as good but they are fine for the few I need each day. Jan also found packs of
fruit polos and Foxes glacier fruits, so we have loads of those too. It’s
always expensive when we do supplementary shopping trips.
Have you
heard about the two 16 year olds who have been arrested over the TalkTalk hack?
If it was those two, then that could be, or should be very worrying for all of
us. If they are so smart to be able to do that much damage to such a large
company, how much worse could it be if they hacked something else, like
banking, or God forbid, the UK defence networks? The mind shudders at the
thought. Such attacks are the stuff of nightmares.
Do you
remember the film War Games? That was
based on the idea of young lad hacking into the NORAD systems. I remember at
the time it came out that the so-called experts were saying it couldn’t happen
and not to worry about it. Well, computers have got smarter since then and
programmers have had to get smarter to be able to work with them. What happens
if one of them does go rouge? And don’t forget my friends, there’s a lot of
people out who have no love of the West; how much damage could they cause?
Only
recently Jan has had a lot of little transactions going through on here ATM
card through Amazon and that has meant she has had to change all her passwords
for them. I wonder how many others have been hit by that one! Small amounts
they might be, no more than £3 in each one, but it takes seconds to set up and
over a short space of time they could be netting a good amount dosh from us.
So, photo
time …
A couple of wigeon.
The Sage
has been kind to us again …
A young lad from outback Queensland goes off to
university, but halfway through the semester he has squandered all of his
money.
He calls home.
'Dad,' he says, 'you won't believe what modern education is developing...they actually have a program here in Brisbane that will teach our dog Blue how to talk.'
'That's amazing!' his Dad says. 'How do I get Blue in that program?'
'Just send him down here with $2,000,' the son says, 'I'll get him in the course.'
So his father sends the dog and $2,000.
About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out.
The boy calls home.
'So how's Blue doing, son?' his father wants to know.
'Awesome! Dad, he's talking up a storm... But you just won't believe this. They've had such good results with talking, they've begun to teach the dogs how to read.'
'Read?' exclaims his father. 'No kidding! How do we get Blue in that program?'
'Just send $4,500. I'll get him in the class.'
The money promptly arrives. But our hero has a problem. At the end of the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk nor read.
So he shoots the dog. When he arrives home at the end of the year, his father is all excited.
He calls home.
'Dad,' he says, 'you won't believe what modern education is developing...they actually have a program here in Brisbane that will teach our dog Blue how to talk.'
'That's amazing!' his Dad says. 'How do I get Blue in that program?'
'Just send him down here with $2,000,' the son says, 'I'll get him in the course.'
So his father sends the dog and $2,000.
About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out.
The boy calls home.
'So how's Blue doing, son?' his father wants to know.
'Awesome! Dad, he's talking up a storm... But you just won't believe this. They've had such good results with talking, they've begun to teach the dogs how to read.'
'Read?' exclaims his father. 'No kidding! How do we get Blue in that program?'
'Just send $4,500. I'll get him in the class.'
The money promptly arrives. But our hero has a problem. At the end of the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk nor read.
So he shoots the dog. When he arrives home at the end of the year, his father is all excited.
'Where's Blue? I just can't wait to talk with him, and
see him read something!'
'Dad,' the boy says, 'I have some grim news. Yesterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Blue was in the living room, kicked back in the recliner, reading the Wall Street Journal. Then he suddenly turned to me and asked, 'So, is your daddy still bonking that little redhead barmaid at the pub?''
The father groans and whispers, 'I hope you shot that bastard before he talks to your Mother!'
'I sure did, Dad!'
'That's my boy!'
The lad went on to be a successful politician.
'Dad,' the boy says, 'I have some grim news. Yesterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Blue was in the living room, kicked back in the recliner, reading the Wall Street Journal. Then he suddenly turned to me and asked, 'So, is your daddy still bonking that little redhead barmaid at the pub?''
The father groans and whispers, 'I hope you shot that bastard before he talks to your Mother!'
'I sure did, Dad!'
'That's my boy!'
The lad went on to be a successful politician.
