OK, I'm overweight, but two office chairs have gone flop-bot on me in the past 3 months. One had lasted a few years, so freecycled down the hill when it was starting to go a bit shooglie. The replacement was barely 2 months old, so has been converted into a credit to my Mastercard. I got a cheap and nasty stopgap today from Argos, and will keep an eye on better definitive models meanwhile.
A bench colleague commented the other day that the way to spot a drunk driver in Namibia is that he/she drives in a straight line. Same is true here with the countless potholes: I'm not of a mind to ruin the tyres and suspension, so currently tend to jitter erratically from place to place - even more so than usual, some would say.
Seemed like a good idea at the time. The toon cooncil, or whoever, has put up a speed-monitoring sign on the road past an estate hereabouts that figures frequently in court lists. With my speedo needle regulated on 30 the other day, said sign flashed '28 Thank you' at me. I eased the regulator up to 32 today, and it flashed '29 Thank you'. So, the speed reduction initiative has succeeded in my raising my speed through the area. Those who'd have gone through it at 50 anyway will doubtless continue to do so till they get nicked by our hard-pressed peelers. And in the meantime, the Council tax, from which no doubt wasteful spending of this kind is funded, has gone up 5%. Wish the same could be said of my pension.
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