The calm oasis that was my January has just been wiped out. The great corporate beast that I work for has awoken, akin to the dragon Smaug (that’s pronounced ‘Smowg’ btw, not ‘Smorg’ for some reason) from the latest Hobbit film.
It’s coming thick and fast.
Added to this the wife is busy sorting out our social calendar. This includes several weddings and, first time for me, a hat and wig party (I know what I’m going as but I’m not telling yet).
It also just occurred to me that I am in my 5th decade. I find this neither amusing or even newsworthy. It’s the sort of thing you read about a famous film star (e.g. Harrison Ford is in his 8th decade. Think about that, Grandpa).
But it’s kind of interesting. I mean I’ve seen out half a century, and apart from hair length and car fumes that don’t smell like they used to, not that much has changed over the years. (Well okay you can now do blogs).
But hold on there. The Interweb was created originally for the US Army. Imagine if someone had decided it should be kept a military secret. You know:
General X: ‘the population cannot be given access to this kind of technology’.
President: ‘Why not?’
General X: ‘Because they would end up wasting it on porn, writing about food and sending each other instant messages about their bowel movements’.
President: ‘That’s ridiculous, people are too busy to waste their lives with such humdrumery’.
General X: ‘Well I rule this country and they ain’t having it. Sir’.
Without the internet what would you be doing? Right now? Well, you wouldn’t be reading this drivel would you? And you wouldn’t be writing an email. Or reading the verbal diarrhoea that is Twitter.
You might be watching the TV. Or talking on the phone. Or, god-forbid, writing a letter. And if we didn’t have the internet – would we have things like digital cameras? What would be the point if the only thing you could do with a photo was stick it in an album?
I wouldn’t have 150 shots of a burned chicken pie stored on the hard drive of my IBM desk top (which wouldn’t have changed that much from the glorified word processers of the late 1980s). I wouldn’t even have one photo. No one wants to look at a burned pie in a photo album. I could go on but I won’t (thank crap for that I hear you sigh).
Which brings me, by some bizarre circuitous route, to the food spot in this ramblage. And no it isn’t burned chicken pie. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever blogged a chicken pie. Mmm…pie, as Homer would drool.
It’s something far worse than that. It’s a Spinach & Black Bean Burrito and it’s yet another Gwyneth Paltrow-inspired Gloop creation. (Don’t worry we’ve already got bored with the recipes from that site so this will be last one for now).