Cheers

“We might as well go to the pub tonight” I said to TSM during one of our text conversations. “Donald Trump is going to blow us all up in a nuclear war soon so we might as well have a drink first”.

This is definitely 1984. Power blocs are friends then they are enemies. The only purpose of the contrived manoeuvres is to convince their respective populations that there is a continued threat, an enemy whose existence justifies the social controls that keep the elites in power.

We never got to the pub. Somehow it seemed wrong to associate a night out with the dark side of life so we bought some chips and opened a bottle at home. Anyway, I’ve seen Sean of the Dead. Come the apocalypse they’ll get you even if you do take refuge in your local boozer.

Plus there were other reasons closer to home for not going out upon which I will not elaborate on here...

Work was boring. I stayed at home and banged out reports and did emails.

Took Monty to the vet this evening, they are going to have another go at fixing his ear. Poor lad he hates going to the vet.

Done now. Can’t think of anything more to write. Hopefully the world will still be here tomorrow.