This Sucks

No!  Not This, The Child Of My Intellect -
Although your mileage may vary on that score.  Don't worry, I am in a forgiving mood today; once I've tracked down those who agree with that title, I'll only swap the salt in your cellars for sugar.
     No, what I refer to is both the NHS and First Bus as of yesteryon.  I did have an appointment for an eye test Friday morning at 10:40, which is an awkward kind of time.  It did mean I could get up at a civilised time, enjoy some hot buttered muffins and a cup of tea, which still didn't balance having to work until 17:00.

The interior of the hilariously inaptly-named "Wellbeing Centre"

     10:40 came and went, and so did 11:10, which is when I got horrid stinging chemicals put in my glazzies, and another 10 minute wait - by which time I'd done a Cryptic and a Codeword - and then I was free!
     What helped to pass the time was two elderly gents behind me in the waiting area, making a re-acquaintance after many years, and both going on about their work, which involved -

No, Art.  No.

     Spray guns.  For spraying paints.  From my earwigging I discovered that there are two main types of spray gun.  One is the gravity spray gun, which, if Art will stop complaining about being Tazered -

Sic

     Pretty obviously this one has the paint drop into the gun under the dictates of gravity, hence the name.  No need to power or pump it in; gravity, after all, is free.
     Then there is the suction spray gun -

Thus

     Which required the paint to be sucked up before being sprayed.  Logical, eh?  I also heard about "Isocyanate sensitisation".  Isocyanate being a component in paint sprays; users, if exposed, can suffer violent respiratory reactions up to and including death.  Not to mention the stuff is also highly flammable.
     That bit about First Bus?  Well, the 17:23 bus didn't turn up.  The 17:31 bus didn't turn up.  The 17:42 bus didn't turn up.  A lady in front of me bewailed the fact that there had been about half-a-dozen 135 buses turn up, yet no 181s.  At this point Conrad gave up and walked across to Oldham Road, and caught a bus to Oldham bus station; I kept a weather eye out for any 24, 181 or 182 buses on the journey out.  No sign of the 24 that should have been only a couple of minutes away from Gomorrah-in-the-Irwell (heavy rain yesteryon), though I did spot a 181.  A single decker, which couldn't possibly accomodate all the people waiting at the bus stop.  Way to go First Bus!  Missing, late and too small.

The near-mythical 24
(don't stare too hard, you'll scare it away)

     If the wabheaded nadgers at First had been in charge of the British Empire, South Canada would have been independent by 1619.*  Heck, I doubt we'd even have the wheel or fire if they were in charge.

To you and I: a lever.  To First Bus: a machine of horrifying complexity.

     Thus did yesterday suck.  Though work was fine.
     Okay, motley, one of these Smarties is actually a disguised antidote to that poisoned cocktail you just drank, which will be fatal in about ten minutes.  Yes, twenty-two thousand Smarties is a lot, but I have faith.

Conrad: Nearly Competent
You may recall that I recently posted a picture of the almost-complete edging of my latest jigsaw project, which had a series of definite gaps in it.  Art?  Reveal my shame.

Undeniable gaps

     The reason for the gaps is because I was watching "Justified", so there's evidence right there that Your Humble Scribe is not a  multi-tasker.  So I went through the whole box of bits again and - 

Hooray!

     Er - there are still two edge pieces missing.  Why yes, I was watching "Justified" whilst sorting, how did you guess?

An Aha! Moment
If you remember, Conrad educated you yesterday in what the word "Apotheosis" means, before wondering why on earth it had popped up in his head.  It means to attain godhood, and I think I know the why and the where of it now.
     You see, I was reading up on Roger Zelazny's classic "Lord of Light" - although I can't remember why I was checking up on it** - and if Art can put down the soothing salve for a minute - 

My soon-to-be edition

     This is a mix of science fiction and science fantasy, set on a distant world settled by the original crew and their descendants from the spacecraft "Star of India".  The original crew have grown mighty in powers, adopting the names of Hindu gods from mythology, wielding said Abilities in order to prevent the planet's population from developing out of the medieval era;*** thus they hope to stay all-powerful.  The novel does thus deal with Apotheosis in literal form, so this may be why the concept was on my mind.  Typically, after reading a precis about it, I wanted to read it, except my copy is long gone.  So, Abebooks was my friend.

They were 0% useful

Finally -
What a disgustingly dirty dreary day.  It has been raining solidly since I ventured downstairs 5 hours ago - okay, okay, 4 hours ago, then.  There.  Happy now?  Unless it clears up I fear no walkies for Edna, and I certainly don't fancy a walk into Little Sodom (Royton to you), though if I had a canoe I could paddle downhill in the gutters.
     This is June, or what passes for the Great British Summer, and I will repeat my assertion that this dismal climate is partly what convinced our ancestors to go out and conquer hot, sunny countries.

Rainy Royton

     I mean, if it's a case of sit here and put up with rain and suet puddings, or go invade India and curry, I know which I'd choose.
     <please note, Conrad does not advocate or espouse imperialism, which is a bit ironic considering he's planning to take over the world.  Thank you.>



*  Or, before it even existed.
**  A mystery for another day
***  Echoes of "Hard To Be A God" there, hmmm?