The Minion

Yes, once again I'm watching Dolph Lundgren do his stuff in a fine piece of comedy called The Minion. Dolph plays a templar who looks like a vicar and has to stop the Minion from re-entering the world and causing brian damage. He failed, because I now have brian damage.

Speaking of minions, le Tour is over and we can all rest. The best man won again, but will he be back? It was not a boring race but the race for the GC was pretty much over by the prologue. Lance put 15 seconds into Jan in 6.5 bloody kilometres. For Jan to get that back? Dreamin'. The other two were ok, but Jan was the only one who dared to attack Lance (stage 15).

Speaking of stage 15, I will invoke Jones' Theorem 2 which I made up recently: Whenever Jan Ullrich does anything interesting, my TV doesn't work. Yes that's right, just a few hours before the stage started, my faithless TV blew a valve and the on/off button stopped working. I tried to get it to work by unscrewing the whole thing and fiddling around with some pliers.

I'd unplugged it but of course you can't tell if you're doing the right thing unless it's plugged in, so I did that and fiddled around with the pliers a bit more and lo! There was a mini-explosion, a puff of smoke and I was now dead sure that the TV wasn't working any more. The pliers, which were rubber handled, are now somewhat shorter.

It's always good to be certain. You see, it's like Schrödinger's cat in a box. You don't know if the cat's dead or not until you open the box. But I reckon you can get around that by not feeding the cat for about 8 or 9 months. Then you're sure that the cat is dead without having to open the box and putting up with the smell. I always thought the poison vial/radioactive isotope thing was a bit too Heath Robinson. I mean, there's gotta be easier ways to do that experiment.

Anyway, having put my electrical know how to the best possible use, I decided to get a new telly, so I trundled down to the Fnac about 4pm (as Jan was doing his mighty attack) and bought the cheapest TV set I could find, which was a damn sight better than my existing blown up one. I then realised that I couldn't ride back home with it, so instead of catching the tram right outside the front door of the Fnac to almost right outside my door, I decided to hoof it along the canal back home, carrying the TV and looking like a right crim. Don't ask me why but I think I shortcircuited my logical thought capacitor with the pliers as well.

Oh well, got to see the replay.

I also had a Visitation from Ma over the final few days of the Tour, but that will have to wait until next time. Have fun in Madrid Ma and don't get stampeded by a bull.