Put the boot in

I've learned something very important today: Department stores do not like people wandering around with a camera trying to take a photo. I guessed this may have been the case when Debenhams asked me to leave, and that belief was added to when a man in a security uniform started following me round. It was quite amusing actually he had slightly less meat on him than a butchers apron and I could have packed him and stacked him with the gentlemans aftershave. However when I entered Marks and Spencers and they to started getting shirty I abandoned my blip.

In truth I only really wanted a shot of some sale items in Debenhams, but the danger struck me as exciting. Tomorrow I might brave TK Maxx or Primark and play a game of 'who has more tattoos, the security guards or the manager'. I guess both have more tat's than GCSEs anyway.

So after my flirtation with the experiences of a shoplifter I simply reverted to this I shot on the way to work. It looks like a novelty slide you used to see in a lot of pub beer gardens. This one has long since been abandoned in a field just off the A46 though. It's not a special shot, but it made me grin.

Back to work today which is enlightening. I remember now why I'm such a miserable arse. I think I've been losing my cynical ways, but there was my reminder first thing this morning. Other things I was reminded of this morning: Seven AM is a gay time to be awake, I carried our company secretary down Steep Hill (guess why its called that) on the 23rd and milk doesn't buy itself. Welcome back to the 9-5 Gary, hope your suitably refreshed.

A week on Saturday is our big 'Xmas' lunch for clients and staff. 50 people, posh restuarant, deals made and money theoretically thrown in the bank. Oh and of course there will be me, shitfaced and no even slightly appreciating the good food. I've been trying to secure a date for the event but even the lure of free food and drink can't get some girls into a nice dress and next to me. I'm guessing that the advert reads something like this: Wanted, 1 girl for 1 night (oo-er, okay not exactly like this) must be 18-40 and hate pretty much everything in the world except quick witted ginger football fans and beer. Transport will be provided within reason. No vegetarians please as I plan to pick at the carcass of your meal long after you've given up the ghost.

Sound like you? You know what to do.

G-Man out. (thats me experimenting with youth talk again. It doesn't really suit me. Blud.)