Monday, Monday.
Good Morning To You,
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So here we are, with another week not touched yet.
So the world is our lobster and anything can happen!
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I hate Monday….no, I don’t really, because I have just had my Warburtons Potato Pancakes, and they were way tasty too.
Mr T has been very busy on my behalf.
He has re-jigged my site and added another heading in the very top line that shows the various headings and categories…it is just for X Factor….so that should make for all you addicts getting a much quicker fix.
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It was a very, very frustrating weekend with regard to reporting on the X Factor contest.
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I have already described my circumstances here at the moment….how I have to watch the programme on my spiteful old computer….which hates me ….on a window the size of a postcard.
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For those among you who live upon the cutting edge of our technological age, a postcard is a piece of stiff card upon which we Luddites write a message, along with an address.
Then we attach a small postage stamp, which we especially go out to buy at a place called the Post Office, and after that we go out again to place the said postcard into a large, red, metal container called a postbox.
These are placed at various sites all over our pedestrian thoroughfares, and at pre-arranged times of the day a man with a little van, and a big bag, comes along, opens the red postbox with a special magic key, lifts out all of the paper communication devices and puts them into the said bag.
The mail then goes through many different sorting methods, before eventually being finally delivered to the address that was written on the item.
This last delivery being carried out by a man, with a heavy bag full of mail, who walks around the streets putting the proper items into the correct letterboxes which have been inserted into people’s front doors.
Sometimes this last step is not carried out, and the item of mail is placed into a black hole instead.
Or perhaps it is fed to a hungry Paper Tiger.
I have not really decided which, as these archane rituals are denied very strenuously by the Post Office!
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See how much more quaint and interesting life could be if you did not have the facility to send instant e-mails and texts.
Please tick the box to give your answer to the Old Fogey Survey..Is Change A Good Thing Or Not!…Yes or No.
Then fold up the Questionnaire and insert it into the nearest timewarp, black hole, sorry, postbox!
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How can you tell that Mr T has also been giving me a few pointers upon the use of my formerly untouched icons?
I enjoy the challenges of blogging, and Big H likes spending hours doing Sudoku without being nagged, because I am too busy to pester him
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You can teach an old dog new tricks after all, especially if aided by the judicious use of small pieces of Warburtons at difficult points in the training routine.
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My other decision is to upload all future X Factor blogs the moment that I have done them, and then insert the video links later on. when they become available on U Tube.
This will mean that an interested fan can more quickly find out what has happened, instead of me having to hang about for hours waiting for the X Factor videos to go online…sometimes a wait of several hours.
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Oh, I can now hear the rain slashing against the windows again, and even what sounds like a bit of distant thunder.
Thank god that we cannot shrink in the rain, otherwise all we British would only be a few inches tall.
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Take care.
Have a lovely day.
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LOL
J,x.
