Saturday, July 13, 2002
The girl two checkouts over had a very sexy urban peasant/ hippy chick look going on. Her denim wrap skirt hung off her hips and reached all the way to the floor. enticingly, it hung lower than the elastic of her knickers. Her knit top was slightly short, highlighting the glimpse of under garment. The white strap of her bag crossed her heart, separating and emphasising a pair of lovely handful-and-a-bit breasts. Straight black hair hung down to these prizes, where it fell forward, and framed a pale smooth skinned pretty face showing a little more worry than she deserved. I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain.
I fell in love for five minutes in Tesco yesterday. One day I should summon the nerve to act on one of my brief infatuations.
posted by Ian Pattinson at 10:58 AM link
Friday, July 12, 2002
Well, interviews keep being put back and put back (or in the case of the one I should have had this morning, 7 grand mysteriously disappears from the advertised wage) so I figured I should sign on. What a joyful experience that was. They've changed the way they do it in the four years since I was last on the dole, and now they have funky touch screen job search thingies full of minimum wage jobs instead of those depressing boards full of handwritten descriptions of minimum wage jobs.
From the job centre I went off to the other end of the scale, dropping in on the BMW and Mercedes showrooms to get a few brochures for photo reference. When I admitted this to the guy in the Merc place, and added that I was looking for the criminals' cars, he rushed off to get me the very plush- hardbacked- S Class catalogue. "Painted black with dark tinted windows, we sell more of them to drug dealers than anyone else." he told me with glee.
posted by Ian Pattinson at 3:34 PM link
Thursday, July 11, 2002
Now, I may have put a variation of this piece up already. If so, my apologies-
DWEM
The building was shiny and new and had rooms named after famous painters. The canteen was the Matisse and the ground floor open plan the Turner. They were running training out of the Picasso, which had been decorated based upon his little known IKEA period. Paul was desperately tring to find the Duchamp room before his bladder burst.
Right after the reception desk, he had been told, but that corridor had led him to the Lowry room. On his way back he spotted it, a little alcove off to the side.
He couldn't help but sigh with pleasure as he finally got to let go into the urinal. Then his phone rang.
He could ignore it. It rang some more. He couldn't ignore it. "Yes."
"Where are you?" Marie Daley.
He could just hang up. "I'm taking a piss."
There was silence on the other end of the line. Paul could afford to smile as he cradled the phone between shoulder and chin and zipped up.
Back in the corridor, Paul stared with disgust at the phone in his palm, hoping to transmit the emotion even after disconnection. Turner was closer than Picasso, so he might as well go straight there. He selected Owen's number and auto dialled.
"You got lost didn't you?"
"Only a little. I'm just too lazy to climb the stairs and tell you I'm going to find a free PC."
"Why you doing that? We do have training on."
"Well the Bitch Queen wants me to get in my car and drive all the way back to Manchester. They've got some problem or other."
"You'd get there at, what, ten o'clock? Does she expect you to start fixing things at that time of night?"
"Probably. That's why I'm ignoring her and doing it over the network. There's the added benefit of not having to see her ugly face."
posted by Ian Pattinson at 5:57 PM link
Wednesday, July 10, 2002
Just a quick mention for Resurrection Day, the book which kept me trapped in the house (well, that and waiting for th call back on interviews) for the last two days. It's been along time since I've sat down and devoured a book like that. It's a what if ten years on from the Cuban Missile Crisis escalating to a nuclear exchange,with secrets and conspiracies only just being revealed.
posted by Ian Pattinson at 1:46 PM link
The amount of space I'm taking up on my server has mysteriously dropped by 4 megs. A quick check confirms that the files I was worried about losing (my online backup of some of the Ten Years Asleep stuff which I desperately need since the computer smoked) are still there. I wonder what has gone.
If it isn't obvious, as I do most of my art on the PC, seeing as I'm computer-less at the moment DEx is going to be delayed a bit. I've got the layouts about two-thirds done and when I've finished those< I think I'll script it. Very Marvel method.
posted by Ian Pattinson at 1:32 PM link
The interview keeps getting postponed, which strikes me as a bit suspicious. I've just spent half an hour on Totaljobs scanning for anything likely looking, and discovering that the only one on there I could apply for had already been filled and was just being randomly re-posted. (Plus, I think I applied for it when it first went up and didn't get a call back.)
posted by Ian Pattinson at 1:25 PM link
Monday, July 08, 2002
It was a lot like a school disco, but with alcohol. Sabs even went up to the woman I was staring at, pointed at me and said "My friend fancies you." (or words to that effect) Didn't work, sadly.
posted by Ian Pattinson at 2:17 PM link
