Thursday, November 22, 2012

Stout Heart....
(begun Thursday 22nd November at 4.05am..)


Is it strictly a points system, or does money change hands?  Have I not said repeatedly that women are better at this than blokes?  She reads what little there is to me, like a bloody book... *snorts... She knew for sure I'd fall on that ambiguous Twitter insert like a dog on a bone...
Then I hear myself and I wonder just who I'm kidding.. The Secrecy Bill is one of the bigger distractions designed to alarm the population, and that string of tweets was intended to get Joe Average off his butt and moving, and had nothing to do with winding me up at all....  Sure, she might have asked whether she could toss that one in among the rest just for a laugh, and it sure had the desired effect..*eyeroll...

Want to bet Balliram watched me fetch the pad from next to the computer five minutes ago, and he's already conceded her the points she's earned?  *winks... For those few of you that are out of the loop, the bait read thus:  The Right2KnowureBizness campaign :  Ordinary citizens should not be made spies.   Really?  Out of my depth would be putting it mildly, and I'm like a bloody cork being tossed about on the waves of manipulation... Nonetheless and notwithstanding, it's fascinating to speculate just who has the authority to dish out the pseudo-NIA clearances that are being handed willy-nilly to Recruits, should they bother to raise the question of hacking into their neighbour's homes...Did the idea originate back when Mo Shaik was running the Intelligence Department, and the first germ of this fantastical scheme was fed to him?  We'll just tell any prospective soldier that they're officially covered by NIA clearance, and as it's highly unlikely the validity of such clearance will ever be tested, we'll get away with it?

I'd called St. Philomena's yesterday, and she'd looked it up to tell me that the R2K workshop had been held on Saturday 17th November and that I could call Vanessa if I had any queries.. No worries, I'll pick up the next one at hmm.. St. Theresa's, or have I missed that one as well?  *winks...

LATER at 4.45am

I did what he said, and last night once the rain began coming down really hard, I took both the Panasonic and the Olympus out onto the verandah and one in each hand, took a whole series of shots simultaneously.. I've no idea what that proves, and I suspect that once he sees the results he'll simply shift the goal posts further away... Turns out there's a three minute time difference between the two cameras settings, but I don't see that as a proof-breaker, though he might... I only deleted two of the many I took, and though the Panasonic interprets the results a little differently to the newer model, the spheres abound in all of them... The exasperated and sceptical Aviator has no idea he's likely paying heavily for the help he's given me, in at least getting a few of my pictures out into the open...

In the end his GP had settled for tick-bite fever, though the chap appears to be on the mend at last.. My kid isn't so sure, and said his symptoms fit the glandular fever bill, but either way, those of you in the know will be well aware of what's more likely to be the cause of his ill-health... That's okay V?  I came right out and requested that your GI Joe connection up in the Midlands, nip the bloody nastiness in the bud before it ends in tears, and I guess I'll have to wait and see whether the Aviator has a relapse or not...

My head had barely hit the pillow last night at 8.24pm, when Balliram's Master Class barreled on in and began cooking my legs.. I've tried before to describe how first your feet go icy cold, and the next minute they're burning hot, and you lie there as the flesh inside your legs seems to bubble and twitch... No, nothing at all like the Irritable Leg Syndrome thing that I've read about, for I've no desire to move my legs while they're being steadily cooked on high... *spews...
I feel everything.. Has he ever admitted that to you?  *curious... Has he ever told you that at the very first tentative jab he aims at the back of my neck or my kidneys, I remark out loud?  Has he admitted that for a lump, I'm eerily well-tuned to these ongoing physical attacks?  Does it lift the Game to another level and merely provide more fun for the Players?  I see I'm nowhere near finishing this update, but hey, you're not going anywhere, and can wait to read of your latest successes, I'm sure... *stomps off...

LATER at 6.15am

The harder I try to be taken seriously, the more I confirm that I OWN my Idiot status... Who can forget the footage of this lardass prancing about on her front lawn clad only in a bath towel, as she snapped off pictures of the Airwing chopper crew, who'd kindly dropped by to capture their own images?  A classic in it's day... Pretty tame when up against more recent footage stolen in our bathroom, that's for sure, though I still like to kid myself that some of it will only appeal to the seriously sick-minded among you... The Ballirams and the Mayfield Place PAGAD members spring to mind....*vomits...
By now even the Good Man's offspring will have likely been encouraged to join me as I bathe, and would've been told that it's necessary to steal data from every room in the house, before they can be considered to have earned their degree in Data Theft... Shame..

I'd run the bath yesterday afternoon and was snapping off a few shots, when the GW called out to ask if I was taking photos, and I'd replied in the affirmative... It looks like you triggered the wirelessed doorbell, he'd joked... Apparently it had chimed just the once as my flash had been noted by the Watchers, and the scramble to squeeze into the front row loge seats had begun..*fetches the bucket...
I can understand the necessity to have the Recruits see me in my nakedness, if only to confirm that I'm every bit as unlovely as I've claimed.. It's hoped that Tuesday night's stolen satellite footage was more to the taste of the less psychiatrically disturbed soldiers of this Yellow Army.. That the sight of me with a sheet of tinfoil wrapped tightly about my head would've earned one of their Converts a few brownie points? *sighs..

Are the Newbies to be unleashed in the Polo for my outing today?  Am I set to endure more white-knuckled, jaw-clenching episodes as they're gaily encouraged to hop on into the vehicle using nearby masts and aerials?
Balliram amuses himself this morning by seeing to it that the television volume was set to it's maxiumum when my old man switched it on, and I've no doubt he lagged the remote at the same time causing the windows to rattle in their frames.. *yawns... The unfortunate Creature scrapes the very bottom of the barrel these days, as he ups his assaults on the two little dogs in order to show off his pathetically vindictive skills... Incarcerate the murderous bugger?  I have to be joking, as he's become a figure of fun himself, and is as much an entertainment as I am, in my mind-boggling ignorance..
Of course the implications that you might find any part of this viciously engineered game in any way amusing, will be carefully avoided, in the efforts to toughen up the Yellow Army recruits, and show them that there's no longer room for such time-wasters as compassion and pity, and that only the hard-hearted will survive *woop!* the holocaust that is the Laser/Wireless Experiment.. Yadda, yadda, yadda...

LATER at 7.07am

I was standing plaiting my hair a minute ago, when the Sadist or his Lieutenant decided to add to his score card, and he'd whacked my tenderised shin mightily, one shot...  *blinks  I'd switched the wall jack on, to temporarily enjoy the fan, and I've no idea whether by doing so I'd handed my leg to him on a plate or not.. Maak beswaar?  Naaa, it's pointless... You're innured to his casual use of the laser/wireless weaponry employed on his targeted guinea-pigs, and unless you find yourself on the receiving end of all this magic, you simply don't know what the fuss is about...

LATER at 9.27am

No mucking about, and Pigman had the Knives to the Back unleashed before I'd even rounded the bend in the Crescent.. He'd had me prodded relentlessly right over to Jimmy Bellows Field, at such levels that it prompted me to fish out the Panasonic and take a shot of THIS little tree with it's trunk and branches thickly covered by Physcia Grisea or it's clone..  A thoroughfare for a massive amount of laser showers then?  Who was it that scored those direct hits on me as I trudged about the Farmers Market?  Come now, you can't deny you're falling over each other to take pot shots at Millie, never mind the rest of my raddled body?

The heat here in the back room has rocketed accordingly, as the Pig checks up on his rat, and I echo Amy McDonald's My feet are gonna run until they can run no more... An album that hopefully sets more than a few of the Eavesdropper's teeth on edge, as she belts out in my car each week...

Peace...

---oOo---

Thursday 22nd November 2012 at 4.08pm.