I woke up this morning as though I'd been drugged and then abused by a group of illuminati, it was tough. I was walking about in a half coma like state wondering what the day was and the time was. All because I didn't have Sparkling's cat to wake me up at some unearthly hour of the morning. In a telephone call to Sparkling she revealed Olly (the cat) had been very good, slept at the end of the bed and didn't meow to be let out. I wasn't there, the little bugger. He does it on purpose, like I must have "cat bitch" tattooed on my forehead. Only cats can see the tattoo of course. I missed a long lay in bed and Sparkles being next to me. It's amazing how easily you can get used to something, then how difficult it is to adjust when it is missing. The Fish Factory was mad and I disagreed with a new initiative but it really didn't matter to a great extent what I said because the initiative would be bought into play. I think I know what hell is, returning to work and feeling like you been kidnapped after a drink with knock out drops in it. I didn't remember a blooming thing. Bloody illuminati.
After the working day I headed to a watering hole for a pint of double chocolate stout. The first one went down so easily, so I had to get a second, and then for some unknown reason it got stuck about half way. Serves me right of trying to drink more than I can. As I sat there reading an article about stress in the work place and how to do a stress assessment (boring) I glanced to the left of me. There wedged between a poofe and a sofa was a very nice looking prim and proper umbrella. There was nobody about. Whoever had left it there had completely forgotten it. The day had been humid and sunny. So it could of been left there a long time. The curved handle cried out to me it said "take me, I am yours." I surreptitiously checked around the seated area to see if I could see any CCTV cameras. If they were hidden then whoever installed them had done a good job. I didn't immediately go over to the umbrella, on account someone might just turn up because they had left it alone and just remembered it. Carrying on reading the article and swigging down a delicious pint, I then went to the bar for a second. I knew what my plan was, return from the bar, pint in hand then casually pick up the umbrella and slot it down beside my own chair. Tough titty to whoever lost it. I drank all but half of the second pint, put my denim jacket over the umbrella handle and draped it along the full length, slid it under my elbow and walked out of the pub. Thank you very much pub. A quick glance on the internet and I found the manufacturer and model, it was priced at £25, wonderful. More than I'd ever contemplate to waste. I got home and then tried it out. The button works wonderfully, it seems sturdy and was an unbelievable bargain as far as I'm concerned. I'll just put it by for a rainy day. Tomorrow the weather is forecaste at thirty degrees, there'll not be much use of it then.
Normal Big Brother has come to an end and now we have Celebrity BB. The celebrities are a somewhat eclectic mix of people. Not particularly big celebrities but all somewhere on the A to Z list, but I must say I doubt if any of them have ever been on the A listing end. What is remarkably different is their age grouping in comparison to normal BB. They are a hell of a lot older. The youngest on normal BB was 19 years and a child, the oldest 31 years old. Whilst on Celebrity BB, the youngest must be in their mid 20s and the oldest probably in her 70s, if not close to 80s. They all have lead some kind of life where the public would know who they are, from soap star, to singer to wana be Prince in title only. Within minutes BB has got the first two contestants on a secret mission. There's a mix of gay and lesbian stars, of course the gay star is droll and intellectual and when introduced to a US TV star said he would "try to use short words," a double entendre had already hit and he'd only just met the poor American idiot. I mean, who in their right mind would call them selves an adjective rather than a noun which was nothing related to their actual name? Only someone who needed to think they were important. I noticed how the US TV star later moped about with a hoody over their head so as to achieve some kind of shield against their own insecurities. Hell, yeah, throw a lemon at him I say.
The Celeb BB is expected to last three and a half weeks. Providing nobody has a mental breakdown or there is a side to the quite independent large egos wanting to vie for attention which comes out and blasts them into the long grass of celebrity opportunities. Why on earth I wonder were there not older people on normal BB. I know why. They were to busy in pubs running off with hot umbrellas.
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