It's a good feeling is it not, Rosie. I had the same sensation when I fronted up at the local traffic authority to renew my drivers' licence (5-years and a few bob) and was told that as I had reached 'a certain age' they declined to take my money. I would like to thank the taxpayers of this blessed country for your magnanimity.
We don't have TV taxes here, by the way, although we used to. I think someone in the public service did some number-crunching and found that enforcement didn't really work and that it cost more to try to enforce licensing than the income garnered.

[Rosie] Good News: Free TV. Bad News: TV Programming.

[Stevie] Good News: Everyone can have free TV by not watching TV.

Bad News: If you have one of those globe chairs in the room, the tendency to fill the time by plotting World Domination can consume one.

(Stevie, Raak) All I watch regularly is Match of the Day 1 & 2, HIGNFY and University Challenge. I never watch anything live but record it and play it back about 2 in the morning with a strong cup of coffee or a stiff brandy. That way you can fast-forward through the interviews, which tell you nothing, and the sages on the panel. I reckon that on ITV could watch the entire World Cup in about 20 minutes.
(Dujon) The driving licence for over 70's here is only for 3 years and you have to self-certify that you're fit to drive.
(Stevie) Can't even dominate the sodding back garden.

"Are you fit to drive?"
"Yes."

Good News: Plotting world domination can make you an international bestselling novelist.

Bad News. Being an international best-selling novelist didn't do Solzhenitsyn an awful lot of good.

'Twas Brexit, and the slimy Gove / Did gyre and gibber in the halls / All mimsy was that Johnson cove / And the "OUT" maths was balls.

Someone do the next stanza...

[Superman] Nah. This is the chat thread, and you're just wanting to rant poetically. Who knows where it will end? Start a game for it if you really want to. (I do an awful lot of it on Twitter - in fact I troll 'Brexit Central' daily.)
In other news, I have successfully used my Dutch network *smug* to get new tyres installed on the windy miller's 70-year old Fergie tractor, as a birthday present. And the local GP surgery has offered me a Vitamin D shot to counter the winter gloom.

(pen) I like the idea of you trolling the rabid loonies. I hope you're not too rude.

Plans fr the weekend, anyone? I actually don't have any. Which is nice.

Eat. Sleep. Archery. Repeat.
Some alcohol may be involved as well.

[Blob] Archery? I dint no you did that. At targets I presume, rather than rabbits and edibles.

[pen] Yes targets. Although I have done field archery shooting at pictures of rabbits and other game.

Ah. Soz.

[Blob] So you and your friends basically spent the entire weekend on your butts?

It's not too early to start discussing plans for the weekend, is it? it's the English Editors' association dinner in Utrecht on Sunday. We'll all be minding our Ps and Qs, obvs.

We tend to call our butts bosses 'round these parts. So after a bad week at work I can enjoy filling my boss full of arrows. As for this weekend I shall be avoiding shopping and will continue to do so until it is safe to venture out in 2018.

[Boolb] I think I've done all the shopping instead of you.

I doubt Britain will run out of fish puns . . . http://www.newsbiscuit.com/2017/11/18/britains-fish-pun-stocks-critically-endangered/

(KS) There is no Cod but Halibut. I nicked this from the great Steve Bell

OK, save it for a spare game slot, chaps. Or kill one of the slow moving games and raise your fish stocks in there.
In other news, I usually order the fish if I'm eating out. Best dish is mackerel or trout or John Dory grilled over a fire in this restaurant (which although tiny is in the top 500 in the Netherlands). If you plan to go, the windy miller's mill is 500 yards away and is open every Saturday.

The MC5 website just complained that my last post smelled fishy. Incredible.

[pen] It must have been the mention of an open game slot - this isn't the site for that!

Last weekend, at LI Whocon 5, I ran into the son of Patrick Trouton.

[Tuj] I am shocked!
[Stevie] Who? Was he hurt?

Eel be ok.

Things seemed to have slowed down a bit in here. Are you all sitting on your Christmas puddings, waiting for them to hatch?

I've had a 2 day cold. Gave me a chance to watch my Wonder Woman box set though. Watching Lynda Carter throwing Nazis around is a strange but delightful pleasure.

If all goes to plan, I will lock my office door on Friday afternoon and won't go back until NEXT YEAR. Have just about had it up to here *points to gullet* with ridiculous requests for work, and I found a couple of days holiday going spare. I'm going to take them.

Thursday - Today I am mostly doing parties three and four.
The first party (6th floor potluck on Tues) I managed to avoid although not without being interrogated about my reasons for not wanting to go (umm... you're colleagues, not friends. My time is my own).
Yesterday's lunch party (#2) was actually worth doing - the research institute's awards and nice food.
This lunchtime? Not so good. Quarterly staff update meeting for the whole business school, masquerading as Xmas Lunch. There are never enough dining spaces for everyone (so you have to stand for the whole meeting before they open the buffet) and the queues are enormous. Cannot avoid this one but won't bother with queuing for food. Will head back to my office and buy a sandwich.
Party Four this evening - the windy miller's company do. The company is growing fast, and seems to attract the reformed protestant type, although the WM, like me, doesn't do religion. It's their habit to invite all wives and children, and the Xmas party is now up to about 50 people. Most of them have at least four children each and dress traditionally (you can spot 'em a mile off). I'm usually the only childless woman there, and the only one wearing trousers.
Bah humbug.

9 down, 28 to go. Prostate cancer radiotherapy sessions. Side effects - say no more. But it will work.

Chin up, Rosie. There's a few of us 'old blokes' cheering you on. Your doctor(s) seem, from your past comments, to believe that you have a very good chance of full remission; now that's something for which to look forward.

[Rosie] Keep up the good work, sir. Let's think laterally. What fun or usefulness can you have with your radioactive (*ahem*) parts? And can we write limericks about them? (The adventures, not the parts).

[Rosie] Canonically, when exposed to radiation, human beings are reported to develop mutant super-powers somehow related to the circumstances and body part that got zapped. I look forward to tales of a mysterious new masked vigilante stalking the streets of London and the incredulous stories told by those foolish enough to cross your path as you flit through the foggy night, fighting crime by means of your awesome new powers.

Thanks, people. (Duj) "Cure" is aimed for and will very likely be achieved. If not the thing will be kept quiet and maybe given another radiative bashing. I won't die of it, but maybe with it. Once a cancer patient of course, always a cancer patient and there'll be regular monitorings every few months. (pen) Let your pen (sic) flourish. Keep it clean. (Stevie) Cum, cum, sir, your imagination is in overdrive. :-)

I'd like to give a word of praise to the hospital which is The Marsden, Sutton. The staff are brilliant. Both patients and staff have a smile for each other. In addition, transport has been arranged which saves shuffling/barging/swearing through heavy suburban traffic.

Much regretted. I hope the funeral directors will challenge well-wishers to find a way of transferring the coffin to the grave from a distance, using only a piece of wood, some cloth, an eggbeater and a long pole.

(Blob) I get through too many fags as it is but that can't be the source of my current problem simply because I don't smoke them through my membrum virile, or membrum pretty fucking useless as it is currently. I have discovered yet another recovered prostate cancer survivor, total now four. This was someone I haven't seen since 1963, a very good mate at University.

Merry Christmas