60 Years On
I've just watched Charlie Windsor looking sombre and concerned as he discussed the events of June 1944 with some of the survivors who have managed to get themselves across the channel this weekend.How he had the brass neck to wear his 'medals' in the company of those who actually did something to earn their own is beyond me.
Twat.
I've acquired Youngest's Sweetheart's old motor. She's buying a new car and the part-ex offers she received were derisory. So, in steps Dearest with an acceptable offer and next Saturday I will have a nice little Polo to run the few miles to work and back.
So I might have to start attending the gym again if my bike riding is to be curtailed. At least on the treadmill I won't run the risk of being flattened by a significant amount of steel and glass. I won't get pissed wet through and I'll regain a mobility that will give me a few more options at work.
I still might give the bike a run on the really nice summer mornings though.
So, Reagan pops his clogs. They reckon he had succumbed to Alzheimer's in 1994. I reckon he'd succumbed a damn site earlier than that.
Incidentally, it was only this afternoon that members of his family were denying reorts that he was on death's door. WTF is that about? He's human therefore eventually he shuffles. Is that a sign of weakness or something?
Lots of guff about what a great president he was is, at this moment, being spouted, splurged and spewed onto the BBC messageboards.
He wasn't a President. He was an actor.
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