Right now though, it’s Friday Night!  Which means, in typical Mooch fashion, a can of Coco-Cola and some chocolate.  Now, I know you were no doubt hoping for tales of wanton debauchery and the like, but I am as likely to indulge in such shenanigans as Gordon Brown is to indulge in being Prime Ministerial.

So, some sugary water, some sugary chocolate, and I’m all set.  For what?  Well, writing this blog, of course!

Today’s blog was going to be about some serious stuff.  I have forgotten what serious stuff though, so instead you’ll have to make do with the above blog about chocolate and Coca-Cola.

I apologise: And now to enjoy my Prime Minstrels.

Oh wait – I just did.

Phew!

Seriously though, I’m finding this difficult.  I don’t seem to be able to find anything I feel strongly enough about to write about.  Except for running with the dog.  And the odd TV show I’ve watched on box set.  I don’t know if it’s just laziness (likely) or apathy (as in, I am so apathetic about things that I don’t feel inspired or passionate to write about them) or what.

Anyway, before this gets too EMO I am going to finish it here and head off to sleep.

I knew the route I was going to take, but I wasn’t sure of the exact distance.  As it turned out it was pretty much bang on five miles, and I ran for about fifty minutes in total.  And that included a little stop to say hello to a gorgeous German Shepherd too!  It was a great run, I felt good all the way round, and despite the extra distance it wasn’t a problem.  In fact, if anything, running five miles again is like getting back to Distance Basecamp when I look back on the running I’ve done.

Last night I decided – actually, I decided days ago, but last night I beat my apathy – to put up for sale all my decent, sellable PlayStation 3 games: Uncharted 2, Modern Warfare 2, Battlefield: Bad Company 2, FIFA 10, MAG.  I haven’t played anything on my PS3 for nearly a month now and I decided I may as well have the cash instead.  I am considering using it to part-fund a PSPgo, but now that we’ve – Gillibobs and I – bought Jay-Z tickets for June, I may use the cash for that instead.  Not really very interesting, I know, but it’s all I got today.

And now it’s time for tea.  Any runners out there – or people that do any form of exercise – will know there’s nothing like the hunger you get from physical exertion.  Bring on the chicken casserole!

Today started well enough.  Up at 6 and out for a run with Peggy-Dog.  Then off to work and the utter, crushing tedium of doing something that interests me not one jot.  I don’t mind the problem solving side of things as at least my brain gets a vague workout, but in all honesty for the most part I just sit there thinking about getting home.  If you knew me, like properly knew me, you’d know that I can’t do anything about it because I’m a hopelessly apathetic…ah, jeez I couldn’t even be bothered blogging once a day, right?

So, anyway, one good thing at work was that Gillibobs sent me a genuinely beautiful email that made me smile.  Inside and out.

Once home I had another nice surprise because Gillibobs had ordered me some breaded chicken when she did the online shopping yesterday.  Total result.  I love breaded chicken.  It’s just the best.

Then I sorted out TSA Times, the weekly newsletter of TheSixthAxis, before watching Liverpool get a decent enough first leg result in the Europa League of UEFA Teams Challenge Trophy Cup semi-final.

And now to bed.  Because tomorrow, at 6 am, it all starts again.

Oh.  Almost forgot.  I made friends with a Husky today.  I love Huskies more than breaded chicken.  I’m not saying I’d eat one, mind.

I also like to watch these teams because they play something so unlike the hurly-burly of the English Premier League that it’s basically a different sport.

Xavi is clearly more artist than footballer.  His technique is, to all intents and purposes, flawless.  Combined with his movement and agility, and his passing vision, it creates the finest midfielder of his generation.  Think of the current best English midfielder.  And then think of Xavi.  And then marvel that apparently they are playing the same game.

Messi is one of the most technically gifted players I’ve seen.  His close control is sometimes astonishing, and when twinned with his ability to change direction at speed and at such sharp angles, he becomes unplayable.

Both Messi and Xavi have technique the like of which is seemingly alien to English players.  Then again, these foreigners are big girls’ blouses, so that makes it all ok.

I’m not knocking England’s finest.  I’m celebrating the fact that some footballers really are from another planet.

When I first heard about Twilight – the film, I have no interest in reading the books - I was sceptical as to whether I would like it.  Hearing the word “teen” around anything to do with Vampires is a sure fire way of making me reach for the garlic.  But, last night, we had a “Give A Movie A Chance” evening and Gillibobs chose Twilight.  We had a little walk to the local Tesco with Peggy-Dog, and Peggy and I waited outside while Gill went in to chose the first film.  Little does she know that I spotted her purchasing the film through the window and had deduced from the cover that it was Twilight.  I was pleasantly surprised though, because her track record with Vampires isn’t very good!  For the record, I chose the film 2012 on Blu-ray.

Once home we decided to watch Twilight.  I took about five minutes to decide I liked the film.  I was completely sold once the first Vampires appeared, the only hint of them being Vampires was their almost ghostly-white appearance compared to the other high school kids.

The film’s premise was easy enough to work out from that point on: A love story.  But, it was told with more maturity than I thought would be present.  The story of a Vampire family accepting a human into its midst, contrasted against the human’s own family life was handled well enough that it didn’t descend into teen angst.  There was enough Vampire action to keep that side of me happy, yet it wasn’t a film about Vampires as much as it was a film about family and love and what we’ll do to protect them.  And a slight undercurrent of Werewolf, which I’m sure will blossom in New Moon!

So, once again, don’t judge a book by its cover.  Or, don’t judge a Vampire piece badly just because it has the word teen associated with it.

Labour: Socialists and therefore they want me to live in the North (where it’s grim) and be as poor as everyone else.

Conservative: Capitalists and therefore they don’t care where I live as long as I believe in free market ideals and making the rich richer.

Liberal Democrats: *shrugs*

I was interested in the debate because I wanted to hear what the leaders had to say and I also wanted to see how well they said it and how they coped against each other.  For me, Nick Clegg clearly came out on top in terms of his delivery and how he coped against Cameron and Brown.  I’m not suggesting his policies are the best, but after watching the debate I’d be more inclined to listen to him than the other two.

So, what do I actually believe in?

That people respond to incentives and that government has to find the right ones to make society move in the right direction.  Pity we all have different expectations of “right” though.

That there must be a “best” way of running the NHS, so we should work out what that is and not let a new government change it.  Hint: the best way isn’t to continually let new governments change it.

I joked on Twitter that I’d vote for whichever party would enable me to more easily afford an iPad.  A Twitter-buddy of mine – cc_star - gave me the following advice: Labour will give one free to low income families; Conservatives will cut taxes to enable people to buy their own.

That’s my level of political knowledge right there!

My drive to work takes me down some quite nice, countrified roads.  I also drive very close to a railway track for a few minutes, and this morning as I neared an area that doubles as an impromptu car park for train spotters I realised it was full of cars.  In fact, the impromptu car park had grown an overspill car park this morning, such was the volume of cars.

There was a large crowd of spotters – easily identifiable by their beards and spectacles, vacuum flasks and notebooks – all waiting for something.  I mean, I presumed it was a train, but as the site is also near a field full of horses, maybe they were just there to horse spot.  As I drove on I saw that more spotters were in the field with the horses, and one man was stood on top of a metal case to get a better view.

I was thinking that it’s great that these people were out doing something they loved to do.  We only get one shot at this life thing, so why not do what you enjoy?  It’s easy to say “Train spotters!” and roll your eyes, but as a gamer I’m used to people doing that to me so I try not to judge the pastimes of others.  Not too much anyway.  Those synchronised swimmers are mental.

I drove past the golf club and stables and as I turned onto the next road on my journey I saw what the spotters were obviously there to see: A magnificent steam engine pulling about fifteen carriages.  The steam was billowing out of the chimney, and folding back on itself as it spread along the length of the engine car.  It looked fantastic.  I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of seeing it by design, but it did make for a pleasant start to the day all the same.

I didn’t catch its number though.

This morning I got up and decided that it was once again time Peggy-Dog and I swapped our usual morning walk for a run.  Once I leave the bedroom and head downstairs I can hear Peggy stirring in anticipation of the walk to come.  Once she sees me get the running gear together I’m sure she gets a little more excited, although that may be just in my head.

When I run with Peggy I wear a special waist belt that has two zipped pockets and a bottle holder.  I thread her lead through one of the straps and then fasten the belt around my waist.  This means I can have her securely on the lead, but also have my hands free.  I use one pocket to store empty poo bags, and one to store…well, you get the idea.

I’m lucky to live in a street that has open countryside 100 yards from my front door.  I put Peggy on the lead, run that 100 yards, and then let her run free the rest of the way.  At that point, and at that time, it’s just me, Peggy and whatever wildlife happens to be awake.

After about one kilometre running down a path with fields on either side, the route opens up with a small lake to the left and further paths off to the right.  This morning we went left, because at that time the mist on the lake is beautiful and the swans and ducks can appear almost ghostly as they glide across the water.  Today, however, the peace was momentarily broken by a man with a big stick whacking some of the plantlife into submission.  I have no idea who he was or why he was doing said whacking, but he only did it for a few seconds and then carried on walking.  He was probably the farmer and they were his things to whack.  Odd, though.

Peggy and I carried on our way and got to the half-way point just a little quicker than I did when I ran the route on Sunday.  A brief stop was all I had this time, just long enough to get rid of the non-empty poo bags into the poo bin and off we went.

The sky was virtually cloudless and because the sun wasn’t yet fully up, it was actually quite cold.  Peggy, of course, loved this and ran the whole four miles without a care in the world.  You know, apart from my freezing hands, I pretty much did the same too.

It’s a great way to start the day, for both man and dog.  Peggy is over 11 now and yet she still takes to running with me like it’s the best thing in the world.  The only difference these days is that she likes to sleep a lot more once we finish.

And that suits me fine, because it means she won’t eat the house like she used to do in the past.

This weekend we settled down to watch our newly acquired box set, Nurse Jackie.  I didn’t know what to expect, but assumed it would be a typical USA TV affair, that is approximately 22 episodes, each of which would be approximately 42 minutes in length.  Yes, I like to press the Display button on my PS3 Blu-ray remote to find out such information.  I also like to count lights and curtain tabs, but that’s for another day.  Nurse Jackie was more bite-sized than anticipated, weighing in at around 25 minutes an episode, and at only 12 episodes for the whole of season one it meant than in under 48 hours we’d watched the whole thing.

I wasn’t done with my preconceptions though, and the first episode – the pilot – successfully rewired my brain with what to expect.  Because I wasn’t expecting a character so deeply rich, so malevolent and benign, with edges you could slit your wrists on.  This wasn’t anything like the romantic staples of Grey’s Anatomy or the drama of ER.  It was more like the staggering character work of House, distilled into 25 minutes of darkly comic events, with an overarching story so bittersweet it’s like eating a lemon and sugar pancake.  If I really like a TV show then the pause-rewind-play combo gets heavy use, because I just have to watch a scene again or hear that piece of dialogue one more time.  It was only because each episode of Nurse Jackie was so short – so beautifully, exquisitely short – that I’ve still got a functioning remote.

I urge you all to give Nurse Jackie a try.  Watch the pilot, chat about how odd it was, then watch episode two.  By then you’ll be as addicted as Jackie and popping episodes like sweets.