Dampy

8 Jan

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It started to rain when I left work. Not rain of any note but wet drops falling from the sky. Well you would have thought it was acid with the speed of people getting their umbrellas out to protect themselves. I didn’t even think it merited my hood up so it stayed down and I don’t feel that my hair is any worse because of it. It frightens me how petrified people are of getting wet on their way home from work. Does it matter that much? Our visual accompaniments this evening are courtesy of fuckwit builders. They are pulling down the building opposite us at work and have now out up hoarding to cover the pavement. It was already grey but they have spent time and money now getting it painted black. What a waste of fucking time. Why do you need to do that? The picture below shows that he didn’t finish it anyway as there are gaps. No doubt he had to clock off and will start again tomorrow to ensure full time is used. Below that picture is today’s VIB who is being chaperoned by someone with vile hair. Very Liza Truck circa 1996 – bit thick stripes. Very much like the woman with Humbug Hair that I often see near to work. Are these bitches stuck in a timewarp? I can only assume their De Lorean needs a petrol or plutonium or 1.21 gigawatt of electricity in order for them to get back to the 90s. Make sure you take your fucking VIB with you dear. Last picture is of a woman I got stuck behind this morning. She barged me out the way and the proceeded to mince along with her coffee cup in her hand so we all know what a moron she is. Just wait until you get into work and make a cup of coffee for free you idiot. Nobody cares that you are stupid enough to buy an overpriced cup of crap en route to your office. It was just so hilarious the way she carried it, with her arm very far away from her body to make sure we could all see the cup. Silly slag. If I had seen it coming up behind me I would have pushed her so it spilled. I wouldn’t have apologised either, I would have just snorted. I saw a very odd way for a phone to be carried this evening. He came strutting out of Deutsche Bank and had it held up to his greasy head but it was held in place by a single digit. The pointing digit. He didn’t have anything else in his porky mitt, just decided to use a single finger to keep his phone by his ear. Talking of pricks on phones, a bloke got on at London Bridge last night and proceeded to have the loudest conversion on his phone I think I have ever heard. He had the earphones but they weren’t a proper hands free so was speaking shouting into the mouthpiece as if he was communicating with someone on the Starship Enterprise. To top this off he had a proper ugly face. Very much like a bulldog chewing a wasp and when I looked up to see where the racket was emanating from, he looked at me. Vile. I had my ipod turned up as far as it would go and I could still hear his hob. Why do they need to shout? I don’t understand. Just remove the earphones and speak properly on the phone. We don’t all want to know about your boring life. Saying that, Amy Childs wannabe is just as fucking loud when the listeners are sitting opposite her. Time to post. It is nice and quiet today. For the moment anyway.

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