so gaz is back and this time its a multi-function base container with false floor and over pelment with deep battenberg and upside down brackets behind the french-english dictionary and the photo book like what you see in those mockups of casual designs for life in those magazines we buy and cut out little lifestyle pictures that I draw to scale and give back to gaz. we then discuss the merits of 70mil versus 90mil and liberating the picture rail like its been interred in some kind decorative style prison where the hatchet job that now lives in the cellar made out of old shoeboxes and twiddly snippings of ex-shelving units was on day release
by friday we’ll be turning all the lights down and sitting smoking fat old cigars in front of the antiqued features like we’re something out of gosford park, except we’ll be more like the scrags that shag in the pantry which I guess means we’re not quite so crushed by our sensibilities but by our stomachs which is probably a better place to be but it does mean I won’t be pontificating about beading and the cables for the aerial, sky and ntl, which is probably a good thing as I have no idea what I’m talking about and for goodness sake, why did I ever think that the vinyl collection would fit into that 1500mil space. you’ll have to leave the 12″s out and just keep the road album and mono stuff and by the way I’m just popping into sevenoaks to look at a pro-ject
so he then goes and sits in the van with cuppa tea and a couple of aspirins cos of this weather, like, and then it’ll be a start on the framework, which reminds me I should be finishing the resource list and capital expenditure for FY06 as I have to make a bunch of stuff up tomorrow in order to get the world to turn the other way in product marketing before the globalization schooner reaches the end of the earth and tips over the edge into the pit of sheol that is stuff I was planning to do but never finished the plan so I never did so it must be tuesday and there goes the circular saw and bf2 really makes your small finger hurt. I should stop ducking and start running. straight into an APV probably and get squished by some 12 year old 733t d00d called 5punkYm0nk3y or something that takes me 3 goes to work out by which time they’ve fixed the artillery and I’m respawning under a hail of shells and ragdolling through the gulf of oman like a deranged motion sickness crash test experiment.
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