a good idea?
A great idea?
A truly wonderful, scrumptiddelyumtious squashdoodlingly marvellously brilliant idea*?
A total crock?
I ALWAYS APPRECIATED
the theory. But I never (r) never liked the practice. Lousy idea.
IN NEW ZEALAND
farmers don’t like the idea either. Especially those that nurture cattlecows (one of NZ’s biggest income producers, boom boom!) (You’d think the farmers would have more clout—some folks might even consider farming more important than the votes of blasted golfers and occasional duck shooters, but there ya goes …).
I USED TO LOVE IT
when I could get up early and have a beautiful sunny world all to myself. The seasons were evened out more back then, it seems. Now twice a year, every year, we ‘spring forward’ our clocks, and ‘fall back’ the blasted things later. Hardly seems worth all the effort and angst.
Everyone is bleary for weeks, but—
FOR WHAT ADVANTAGE?
To whom? Hah! Don’t ask me, I’m just an opinionated ol’ Dawg. Go ask (nay, Sir or Madam, GRILL) your local governmental minion. In fact, ask any bugger with his snout in the trough and I guarantee a platitude-filled answer that doesn’t make a great deal of sense to anybody.
WHAT PROVOKED MY
unprovoked tirade this time? An article I still haven’t read yet from this morning’s in-mails. I’ll post the link now, and then I’ll go read it (damned scribe may desperately be needing a rebuttal … or not):
Get thee hence and make of it what you will. But don’t forget to fiddle them clocks, now; and always remember: to be good
sheeple citizens we never question our superiors …
* Yes indeed, I have been watching the BFG. Now my very favourite movie, along with Frozen, Brave, Tangled (I’ve always had a soft spot for long-haired blondes …). So having glanced askance at my favourites you may now run a psychological profile on me—and no-one will blame you if you run screaming from the room.