It’s strange when you are cooped up with someone twenty four hours a day, you get to the point you can’t wait to have a break from them. And yet last week, when I did eventually get a break from the very annoying company of Shadow, I just sat by the front door and whined. I suppose it just shows that familiarity breeds content and contempt in equal measures and that sometimes a dog can be too fussy.
All this time and I haven’t mentioned Michael Jackson. To be honest I haven’t had all that many thoughts on the subject. My Mistress never was a Michael Jackson fan and doesn’t own any of his albums, which probably makes her one of a minority. The bit that I don’t understand is why everyone, including the family, seems to want to prove that his death was caused by medication. What do they gain from that at the end of the day, other than the reassurance that their own mortality may not be quite so restricted? Of course, being America, they may be getting themselves into a position where they can sue somebody but as far as I can tell Michael Jackson was an adult and if he chose to foolishly take drugs he didn’t need, surely he only has himself to blame. If someone is considered responsible enough to be given the vote, you would like to think they could be responsible enough to look after their own welfare. It’s the same with cigarettes. Ok, so in that case there is an argument that the manufacturers shouldn’t be allowed to make them in the first place, but there is a warning on the packet that smoking kills. You sign a disclaimer if you undertake a dangerous sport, shouldn’t it be the same when you smoke or take unnecessary drugs?