7.15am
The radio has a story about house prices and here we go again, the property mania never sleeps for long does it? It’s almost comical, the way it just goes on and on and on, the mechanical predictability of it, like the little man and the little woman in the weather house. Sunny day, the lady comes out, rain, she goes in and the man comes out, in and out they go, in and out, on and on and on, nothing ever changes, they never get anywhere. But at least they have a house. What we have is tragicomical.
Whatever happened to those little weather houses? You used to see them all over the gift shops. Do they still exist? Do people still have them? Or have they gone the way of the pretty wooden butterflies people would put on their wall by the front door? Yes, I have digressed because I end up wanting to digress rather than do another round of this discussion: on and on and on, nothing ever changing, never getting anywhere. Same words, same hand wringing, same no goddamn thing changing, with just the occasional downpour of WTF to take you by surprise.
