Great plans

Oh yes, I am on a mission.
I would like to find and post a picture of Depeche Mode, with evidence of (leather) cycle shorts, possibly with braces.
Can anyone help me out with this? My connection here is too slow for systematic trawling.

Shocking

I had a bit of a snigger this morning. I was shelving, as I do every morning for an hour. The just returned shelves on the first floor are next to a display set up of new books. This display is stocked by Central Reference staff - or are they called Information Services now? I forget. Anyway, I lumbered in to start my shelving but has to pause in this mission. A co-worker had seized upon a book she found on display that was "just disgusting" and "inappropriate". "I don't think anyone should have to look at that!"
What could possibly be so offensive you may well ask?

Hmmm, certainly is arresting.
Stay tuned, I will be sure to let you know if the offending item is found on display once more.

Stop it! Your interpretive dancing is intimidating me!

Sometimes you just feel old

So far I have been asked if I had heard of the Anals and the Aesthetics (asked in such a way as it was clear the questioner thought it was a long shot). I was also notified of the existence of None Gallery, or Lot 24 or whatever the hell it is these days.
This is what comes from not having a studiously unconventional lifestyle, clearly. You are out of the loop for all the coolest alterno parties.

This is a new one

Beautiful buyer who purchased a shawl collared 1960s coat from me, won't you please send me a delivery address so that I can send away the wondrous garment?

and in a weird example of synchronisity, they just have.

Must have been the creepy feedback I placed about needing an address. But really, how often is it that the buyer slows the process down?

Me vs the oven, part two

This morning I got up, ready to do battle once more and investigate why the oven was not going. Not enough sleep, but more than I had had the evening before. Dammit, I was going to find out what was making the oven persecute me, if it took a further fifteen minutes of twiddling with the timer and clock buttons. Turn on the range again...pause...click, it decides to work! Did I just happen to turn the oven on as the designated start time was occurring? Why did pulling the start time switch not override it? Why do flats always have such awful ovens? As far as I can tell someone must have wound the timer on about 12 hours in advance (good one) and my fevered turnings of the dial were not enough to fix it last night. Or was it something more sinister? And why do ovens have timers anyway, you shouldn't be leaving cooking unsuperintended, let alone leaving the house with it set to start the fry up in advance of your potential non return. Who? Why? Why are there suddenly so many dishes again? Why is it so cold? Who can I blame?
Now I am very tired and cold, but I have to brave the elements again. Looks like another late dinner, but don't you worry, I will be prepared to break some stuff if I get home to the place like yesterday. Not least of all the landlord special oven.

After leaving the internet running

I get to a resolution on the matter of Steve Perry and the video clip. That's right Steve, hug it out. Hug it all out. Hug the pain of those hi-waist super taper jeans away.

Nope

Nothing wrong with the fuse, so I guess it is tracking down the land lord's number and hoping my vegetables don't rot in the mean time. Not that they will in this cold weather.

Dammit, I have to find something else to eat now, how irritating.

I'd comment more if my damn connection wasn't so slow

It has taken me something like 15 minutes to get the intro. But even with what I have so far I can tell that this is excellent:

Can anyone say lazy gash?

Right, today has not been a success. People may ascertain this from the title, but for those interested in reading on I will give a condensed version of the highlights. I will try to keep the moaning brief, but I suspect it may just break out in outraged strains.
First of all, I am sick and have some kind of 'flu I think. I go to work for eight hours, rush around to send stuff to fuckwits on trade me who do not send adequate information. I dash home, don't have time for dinner, go to class for a couple of hours. I leave, hoping that something may be done about the kitchen by the time I get home. I have reservations because another flatmate is sitting, ill, in the lounge bewailing the fact she has to work for 5 hours tonight. After a day of doing sweet fuck all? I'd say it's a luxury. Although I can't be certain she did nothing, as I have not yet installed CCTV in my house.
Go to class, get back home about 10, kitchen even more messy. Reconcile myself to having to do some dishes in order to cook dinner. Make a mammoth effort cleaning up, cut up vegetables to roast, and then find out that the bloody oven has shorted a fuse or something. The bake/grill does not work. At this point A sloped down to grab more snacks for his evening, and helpfully pointed out the stove top worked. Useless prick.
So, I am at an impasse. Hungry, no means of cooking, can't have muesli as someone has used the milk, and angry at myself for cleaning for lazy gashes once again. And feeling really ill. High drama, I tell ya.
Well, I am about to try to break into the stove and see what is wrong with it. Wish me luck, and possibly don't try to talk to me for the next few days.

Other peoples' computers

So aside from the obvious issues I have had with my workstation over the last couple of days, I have found one other major problem with sharing. Too much clutter. From the people who collect spyware antispware programs on their computer, to those who have soft toys breeding amidst photographs on their desk. The only good clutter is my clutter & I, being transient, am not allowed to leave any.
At present I am using a computer that has random sheets of print out under the keyboard and it is annoying me greatly. I will have to curtail the posting frenzy, otherwise the paper would get it. Probabably a blessed relief for you all, since I was going to talk about the mouldy dog turd and dead hedgehog I saw on the way here. Ahhhh nature.

Africa

I always wondered what they were saying about Kilimanjaro, and evidently other people have puzzled too:

mbenzsl2000 (47 minutes ago) sure as kiliminjaro rises like olympus.... NOT memphis, lol

The drummer was really feeling it like a spastic child. Feeling it, but not as much as that keyboardist going orgasmic on his (tee hee) stool. Even better, there is someone who looks vaguely like him in Dunedin, I'm cooking up stories as I type. That's not the half of it, I am going to be really nervous shelving on Monday. Will I draw out a book and find a be-mulleted freak singing earnestly on the other side of the shelf? Could the bass player get the bass any higher? Does he have a resulting sweat rash on his nipples?

How I wish my library was like that, complete with bear lurking in the childrens' section & poofy blouses for all the staff. So attractive.

Found items

There has been a particularly intriguing note handed in at volunteer work. Not deliberately handed in, probably left in a suit jacket. Anyway, here goes:

Track 3
Play Africa as taking casket from the church. Repeat song if necessary

I really hope it is Africa by Toto they are talking about. Can you imagine the church misting up with the line "Gonna take a lot to take me away from you". It almost ousted Together in Electric Dreams from my funeral play list.

Overheard in Dunedin

"You know, I'm going to keep working at it. You just don't give up on 15 years of marriage without a fight"
"Good for you!"



Yes, you go girl.

Thieves active in the building?

A checklist of the things that have gone missing from my desk/ workstation area:
-Trolley
-Stamp pad
-Stamp
-Bus labels
-Rubbish bin
Is there a plague of locusts stripping the place I wonder?

Heroic avocado

Will I ever have an avocado this good again? It was a gift from the fertile land of Rarotonga. I placed it beside a cup and coconut to give a sense of scale, and Leo the cat is looking introspectively off into middle distance behind them all. He could be thinking about abundance, but I expect he was just wondering if I would feed him soon.

So, where do you come on the list?

I don't even make it into the top 10 for 2007, what's with that?
Check your name out here. So the results are for the States? We can generalise.
If you want to add more interest to the list, just imagine how each baby would have been teased about their name at school.

A whole new realm

Of pedatry has opened up to me, thanks to Duckling & this here website. I look forward to many hours laughing like a drain, and repeated revisits to that Highlander 37 poster. There can be only WTF indeed.

Supermarket Shenanigans

A kerfuffle? Rambunctiousness in Roslyn? Those who were not aware of the scandal surrounding the Roslyn public toilets might have been shocked to hear of the licentiousness taking place at Fresh Choice supermarket on Tuesday. I was horrified, but only because I stumbled into the midst of it. A double take, blinking several times to lubricate my shrivelling eye balls. Free Bananas the sign said, take one. Take one if you want to be hit on by a complete stranger. I clasped my coat a little more firmly and strode off to find poof adequate for the majesty that is Patrick McGoohan. I took care to look in everyone else's trolley though, and I only saw one swinging banana carrier. Two women in tandem, looking like they had escaped from Brockville and were looking for some posh Maori Hill totty.
Actually, the supermarket seemed really empty. Presumably a lot of people are like me, and find the idea remotely creepy. My flatemates didn't. When I scurried home to tell them all about it they started grilling me about which way I carried my banana. Should have told them I stuck it down my slacks.

Could it be time to move out of information management?

I know that I am a sad, sad individual but I think I hit an all time low, even for myself. I have spent today online, downloading music and going through my external hard drive. Such embarrassments lurk on it, and so many albums with inadequate labelling. Yes, so that is what I have been doing. Scrounging online for the track listings and updating where I can. You'd think it would be simple, but no, some of the albums are not there. Some have American and UK editions, and some have other random things appended to them. Some have one less track on them than appears on the track listing online, and some I have no idea of who or what it is. It's not my fault, I got a whole lot of stuff from other peoples' computers dammit! How am I supposed to sort all this out? I'm up to E and I already have several unsolved mysteries. It is 9 something in the evening, I have work tomorrow, and I don't think I am going to get it all done. In all liklihood I will obsess about it all week and spend next weekend doing the same.
Maybe some self analysis is in order. What exactly am I trying to avoid? Or is it burgeoning OCD?

Owwwwwww

I knew that work was not making my hands very beautiful, but I realised there is an advantage to all the callousing. Today I was slicing up vegetables when the knife slipped and sssschiikt sliced into the side of my left index finger. The funny thing was I didn't bleed or anything, as it had merely shaved off a layer of the tough protective skin I have been painstakingly growing.
This is going to make me sound even more foulsome isn't it?

Mine may be a case for gloves.

The chronicles of Roderick

Consider this a placeholder, but I was so enamoured with the title I had to put it up.
suffice to say, I began a class this evening, and there was a lovely knowitall in it called Roderick and I think I shall devote some time to stories of his majesty.

May as well have been overheard in Dunedin

I don't know if anyone out there has come across a book Post Secet before, but bascially a guy decided to do an art project inviting people to anonymously send confessions in to him using provided postcards. Well, the art project was completed and yet the confessions kept rolling in. If you look at any copy of the book held in a library I expect you will find notes left in there as well. Like today, when I was shelving it. I noticed the following message

I have herpes. Sometimes I feel like a leper.

If I were really nasty & into jumping to conclusions I would check up on the last patron. Strike their name from the eligible registry, so to speak.

I'm back and almost over the re-entry syndrome

But to prove I was away I will post a picture of the view from where I was staying:




See, it did happen, really!