Days of Fools and Darkness

So this coming Sunday is going to be quite frightful, kiddies. Not only are we all sitting ducks when it comes to April One-ness jokes – some smartypants always gets me good due to my general susceptibility to believe any lie or piece of outrageous tomfoolery you care to throw at me - but it is also the end of daylight as we know it. We all be fools, sitting foolishly in the dark.

The end of daylight savings feels like a dud deal gone wrong to me. While we may gain an hour's sleep in this rort, we also outrageously have our daylight stolen from us, um, in broad daylight.  But during the night. ACT Government biatches stole my twilight.

But I suppose I have been manipulating mother nature for my own entertainment for years.  I remember this one time, at school camp, when I set my friends alarm clock for 2.00am and attached it to a piece of string above her bed so it swung back and forth when she tried to grab it in the dark and she couldn't turn it off and she thought she was being attacked by a wild bear who was toying with her by trying to wake her up before he ate her.  There's a considerate bear out there.  Good times indeed. 

There I go again, off with the tangent fairies.  I do love a good tangent.  The arrival and withdrawal of our savings account with the daylight brings to light many a question that I am forced to ponder over because no-one else seems to care.  For example; have you ever wondered about roosters? How they might feel about DST?

Has anyone thought to consult the boy chickens? No. That's the thing - no-one ever does. This is why they are angry birds and roost all the time all over the place and wake up too early and then go to bed too late and it's all crazy for them too.  But I suppose it gives them something to crow about.  Bazinga.