RANDOM ECHOES 7/10/05

Countdown - day 7 (1 week to go)

Never get into a lift with a certain P.B. He has been stuck in lifts 6 times in the last 3 months. It is his curse. He gives off an electro-static charge every so often, due in part to his heavy smokers breath after any form of exercise (even just walking from the smokers den to the lift). His bulk rubs against his clothing causing friction and static charges, which are in turn carried around his body by his profuse sweat. This shorts out the elevator's signal when he presses the button for his destination or even stands in the vicinity of the electric wiring behind the panel facia. The elevator starts it ascent or descent but then shorts out almost immediately between floors. Anyway, this is not meant as a personal attack on the man, just a warning to you that's all.

Finally get hold of my replacement debit card, four weeks to the day after I asked for a new one and two weeks beyond it's original expiry date. Erosion has taken place, anger has been ditched as worthless, acceptance of the lack of control one has over some aspects of life has settled into a fine dust somewhere in a corner of a drawer in the filing cabinet the administrators dragged into my soul.

A. came round last eve. He sat on my almost empty bedroom floor and went through the piles of CDs I had weeded out of my collection as part of moving out. He shuffled through each one, making a pile for himself and commenting on the quality of them. He completed his joyful search and recognised he now has enough new music to last him a year. Which can only be a good thing.

I want to say a fond goodbye to an old man I never met but have heard much about recently; wish him well on his way from this life. By all accounts he had a great garden and I intend to give a little bit of it back in honour of his memory.

Never trust your landlord, they'll shaft you then put all the responsibility on you for it, making out they are squeaky clean even though they never provided you with a habitable home in the first place.

Politeness thrown straight out the window of a moving train by a 42 year old raver with a guitar and pretensions to be the new Gallagher brother. Spatial awareness nil. Grace nil. Respect nil. Intellect nil. Weasel eyes and cursing those nearest for even breathing. Rebel with an ulcer.