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.