That time of year again

A day for indoor admin, until I decided to head out. And foolishly I decided to go and see Vice at Ocean Terminal. I was surprised at myself. Why would anyone want to see a film about Dick Cheney? I was none the wiser afterwards. Nothing inspirational, nothing of interest, actually. They try and cover the historical ground so it’s spread thinly which doesn’t help. Whether it’s accurate or not is a moot point; I imagine the only bits which come close to being dramatically interesting are fictitious. And why cast Christian Bale and do an amazing makeup job instead of giving some fat old bald bloke the gig? Nuts.
Home to spectate awhile in the ongoing Brexit shenanigans. Apparently we’ve sent Theresa off to Brussels to replace the Irish backstop with unspecified "alternative arrangements”. I may need to read about the Malthouse Compromise. 
Or maybe not .I may do what Muriel Gray suggests on Twitter - This afternoon I shall be doing Anger Gardening, a movement I’ve just invented involving releasing a boiling inner rage on weeds, broken plastic pots and crisp packets that have blown from the street.