A conspiracy of bellends!
by Pseud O'Nym
I’m in my garden now, the sun has been warm and shining all day, but I’m not in a good mood because of a conspiracy of bellends, who undermine this otherwise peaceful scene. Our neighbours are cutting their grass with what sounds like the noisiest lawnmower in the universe but who has thoughtlessly added to the chaos by burning a bonfire for what seems like most of the afternoon. And it doesn’t smell like their burning bits of tree and leaves either; it smells like their either disposing of a body or up to something nefarious and wafting the smell in our – my! – direction.
One wonders at the mindset of people who think ‘Even though it’s a really nice day, even though one might reasonably expect our neighbours to be enjoying it, regardless of all that, we’ll do what we bloody well want because we bloody well want to.’ And these are the people we’re self-isolating for?
Mind you, the day got off to a shitting cock of a day. It’s amazing how quickly one gets used to – and then takes for granted – the absence of the infernal noise that planes. I only realized it when it wasn’t there, I’d gotten used to only hearing birdsong in the early morning, when the sound of distant thunder announced the planes were back. As anyone familiar with this blog will know, I live a) directly under the flight path into Heathrow Airport, b) I think they’ve sneakily lowered it c) my bedroom is stuck onto the house as what seems like an afterthought with a thin roof, d) there’s one flight at 3 am, one at 4 am and then one every 90 seconds or so until midnight.
So no, I haven’t been obsessed with it. Not at all.
Anyway, I was woken by the noise of them this morning at ‘what the fuck o’clock’ and for an all too brief moment was disorientated. Then – hang on, as we speak, LMS is reclining in a hammock and declaring herself cold, wants me to get her a blanket; two chances, slim and none – rather like the with the tedious inevitability of old age, I realized what it was. When I mentioned it to my housemate, questioning what on earth motivated the ground-crew, check in staff, baggage handlers etc, to turn up for work, and when she replied, quite reasonably that the flights might be freight and food, I thought ‘What every few minutes?’
Like I wrote some moments ago, it’s not like I’m obsessed or anything.