The Horrific, and the Grand

My oh My Oh My Oh My.





Without meaning to sound like some diddy boy from Hard-Fi or some other "we liked the Jam and steal our songs off the clash" bands, I feel the need to say, WORK IS RUBBISH.


Really rubbish.


I spend my days working a coffee shop, in Dundee town centre. I have done for about three years, occasionally full time, and occasionally part time when I decide to take up some half arsed college course or other. Every day is quiet, then a little busy, then a bit slow again. Everyday.


The customers are a lifeless bunch, waiting for death as opposed to just accepting that they are alive. Most see human interaction as a dirty thing, a muttered please and thank you are rare and joyful occasions.

I often find myself staring longingly out of the window praying that a six foot drag queen or midget in a tall hat would walk through the door, stun me with their visual wooha then ask me a personal question about the shape of my genitals. Anything to break up the grind.

I often stand convincing myself to storm out, throwing my milky apron in the air and telling everyone of the grey faced army to lick my man part, but I forever see sense, as I have annoyingly developed a bond to my brothers and sisters in dull, daily union.



After escaping last night I skulked off home in a quiet rage as usual, but was swiftly revived when I cranked on the Moore stereo system. Got me the new Cribs album you see, and its pure genius. Sitting listening to the first nine tracks was a mad hook filled joy, then....then....then I heard the track named Be Safe, which has Lee Ronaldo from Sonic Youth speaking over it. Purrrrrre amazing. Sounds like nothing the Cribs have done before, so epic and beautiful. Made me the happiest little lad in all the land for the rest of my night.

It's the little things you see.
Ahhhhhh.
x