More Nonsense from my Travels

Off to that Newcastle at a ridiculously early hour to be scanned into the Biobank once again. Several hours stuck in tubes and on tables before horror of horrors, computer puzzles to solve. Still, I was freed up by 2pm in time for a delightful stroll along the Tyne in the warm sunshine to the Baltic (gawped at some Judy ‘Chicago’ stuff) before popping into the Crown Posada for the swiftest of swifties. Oh, and the Guildford once back.
And a day then of much reading - the online is much taken over by gender identity. Spurred by the self-ID stuff proposed by the Ruling Party there seems to be the start of some backlash - making unlikely allies of Johann Lamont and Joanna Cherry. Whaddaya mean you can’t be a woman by just saying you're a woman? I prefer the old scheme where you’d actually to be insane before the GP agreed to that.
Talking of which - so much hand washing everywhere. Never seen so many chaps wash after a pee. Don’t they realise your cock can’t catch coronavirus - it’s your lungs, stupid. No idea if it’s the same in the women’s toilets. Though it’s easy enough for me to gain admittance and check out since I’ve self-identified as female by growing my hair.