Yeah That Was the Big Push.

Following my last post my mother who is now working as a physiotherapist at Mayday hospital popped round for an unannounced visit. While she and my father spent about an hour trying to diagnose my grandmother's mystery illness I watched the 22nd episode of a certain series of a certain US medical drama. Once I'd eventually pried my father away from her we had a quick chat. I found her to be in the mood to try and negotiate some sort of settlement on behalf of her employers. I simply pointed out that her employers were no longer in a position to either threaten or negotiate so I can see no need for me to negotiate.

After my mother left my father went to meet my brother for dinner at the local pub. Although the pub was empty the service was slow but brother was tired and subdued. He explained this by pointing out that like most of the rest of the people in Britain today was only the second day he'd spent in the office since Christmas.

When we got back I watched a BBC2 show called the History of Now: The Story of the Noughties. It featured a prominent cameo from a "donk", apparently a genre of hard dance, act from the north of England who'd spent the summer working the white, working class youth up in to a frenzy. Although it wasn't mentioned the name of the act was "Blackout!" which proves that although the Crown can sort out a distribution deal they can't write a good song.

Of course while I was doing all that I didn't have the time to write an article about Britain's fake (natural) gas crisis. I'll try and do it tomorrow but I promise it's more the sort of thing to ponder in your quiet moments rather then the great panic Britain seem to think it is.