The art of knowing thy place

25 Feb

untitled-1-copyI must come in somewhere around 615th by my reckoning.  Two weeks ago our poor car ended up with its tail in the air in the garden of a woman (it turns out) who used to work in the same vast office as me in a former life. I say ended up – but that’s just my polite way of saying driven by an idiot bloke in appalling weather conditions who clearly doesn’t feel proprietary regarding the NCB as it’s not in his name. Anyway I found this out (not the car – he mentioned the car) through the incompetence of my insurance company who hadn’t seen fit to contact our third party about repairing her demolished wall nearly 2 weeks after the accident. So two days ago she phoned me. And we had a chat. And she emailed me some photos taken by a neighbour to let me see the damage (and hopefully laugh a bit as spitting teeth was getting a bitty tiresome). I showed them to the destroyer of my NCB – we did have a laugh.

So today I find another completely different photo of our poorly parked car –  posted online over a week ago. And I’m wondering … why was this photo shared with 614 people on Twitter and not so much as mentioned to me … say a week ago? Do I really have to follow the man I live with on Twitter to find out stuff? Apparently.

In a recent BBC article Dr Aric Sigman says

websites such as Facebook set out to enrich social lives, but end up keeping people apart

Well I’d kinda thought that already, I just didn’t anticipate how soon the rot would reach my own kitchen. Needless to say I Twittered my response, methinks there’s nothing like an audience of 614 for a domestic to make you reconsider the spoken word.

RR012553

And yeah I always dress like this in the kitchen.

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