When you dress slightly smarter one day in the office, everybody must ask if you’ve got a job interview. Even though I only have to wear a shirt with my trousers and shoes, sometimes I like to put on a tie but not all the time. I don’t like feeling forced to wear a certain outfit. I just like the opportunity to look smart every now and then.
Sometimes I do have a job interview. But I hide my smart gear in the car. Duh.
Me and the wife were wandering about in town the other day, and she pops into M&S for something. So I sat on the bench outside where I could listen to the two religious chaps some way behind me with microphones tell everyone how they’re all going to hell.
A middle-aged lady sitting next to me makes a remark about how people should be left to believe what they want. To which I agreed.
“What are you? A Muslim?” she asks me.
“No, I’m Catholic” I reply. I know it’s been a poor summer, but even I couldn’t tan enough to convince anyone I’m a Muslim. Maybe it was the Roman nose that did it.
“Well whatever you are. You pray to Mary, and I’m a Christian, and I pray to God” she says.
“Err…”
“My friends from Ireland used to be Catholics…” she continues. Then she mutters something about these people from Ireland being lovely people while she reaches into her handbag for some religious leaflets.
“Do you want one of these?” she asks.
“Nah, I’m alright” I tell her.
“Alright” she says, then she turns away from me and a moment later goes to talk to someone else.
scribbbles asked: I love your work, lots =)!
Wow! Thanks. Very unexpected but thank you. And may I say the same of yours. Especially that jeep!
There’s a new cleaner at work, and she’s taken the spoon that I was hoarding as my own — because I’m funny about using communal mugs and cutlery.
It was my fault as I’d left it out of my drawer. So I went down to the kitchen to choose the cleanest spoon I could find, and washed it. And it became my new “chosen spoon”. The people rejoiced! Tea was stirred, and yoghurt was eaten.
There’s a sign near my house where the letter R has fallen off or something so being the all ‘round good egg that I am I’m going to replace it with a nicely drawn new R. I’ve been sketching out some options that I really think will jazz up the sign.
I’ll post an update as things progress and also the inevitable Key to the City that the Mayor will no doubt award me with for services to the city.
You can’t, because I’m not on there. Because I have nothing worthwhile to say that fits in 140 characters or less. Apart from this.
The great thing about being a man and having a son is the chance to relive your own childhood again and pass on the great things that excited you down to the boy. How thrilled was I when he started to enjoy Transformers! Thing is though he’s not out of the Peppa Pig stage yet so the two combine in a Venn Diagram kind of way – you know, the middle bit, it’s an alternate universe I guess, where the Autobots have less to worry about in their lives than turning into trucks and battling Decepticons and can concentrate more on taking their goldfish on a bus ride to the vet to cheer him up.
“Look Dad my robot is jumping up and down in muddy puddles”
“It’s Optimus Prime son, I don’t think he likes to jump up and down in muddy puddles”
“Yes he does”
“Okay son”
I drew a giraffe for some gentleperson who is trying to get a million giraffes on their website. I rubbed the feet off for this version though because they were an afterthought and when I drew them in it made his legs look too short. You can never see giraffes’ feet anyway. So stop worrying. Jeez.
One St David’s Day when I was in primary school the class were asked to draw and colour Welsh dragons, mine ended up being a green dragon with four legs that worked fine, rather than one of the front ones being cocked in the air for whatever reason. I did this because I didn’t like drawing the same thing as everyone else. The prefect who was watching us didn’t like my apparent creative license and grassed me up to the teacher. Who then told him to shut up and let me do what I wanted.
