adventures today included:

frowning at Photoshop (grr and ick) while sitting about a metre away from the computer, delivery man comes in and looks at me strangely, possibly because it looked like i was trying not to touch the thing with a 10 foot pole.

finding out the guy who has been using our work computers for internet dating is doing research. yes, how very convincing. (the sad thing was the way he told me about it, the over-explaining coverup style. actually, he probably is telling the truth, but in a 'social experiment' sense rather than the actual proper research he's trying to pass it off as). (oh, and while i'm ranting, i'm shitty with this bloke for coming in and using our office when he has no right to, using our printers and copier and paper and phone, and probably making the IT people think dubious things about us. you should be shitty with him because he got a 3 year scholarship courtesy of the taxpaying public to do his PhD and did fuck all. now he's talkin about publishing his most recent stuff [which i think is dated pop psychology bullshit] on a more commercial basis. if it happens, Australian taxpayers unite and sue his arse. grrrr. nice bloke though.)

in a strange bout of reverse psychology, when bombarded by very very loud offensive music from the pub next to the bus stop, went in to said pub to have a drink and write shake-walkingstick letter of complaint to some fictional manager type. music not so bad inside (covered a bit by the sound of people saying stupid and disposable things to each other). at least i can smoke there, which i can't do at the bus stop. i could, however, probably buy some heroin (if they accepted a Mr Beans Coffee frequency card as currency). just goes to show what a funny old world it is.

the urge to set fire to the whole place and dance in the wreckage to celebrate ridding the planet of the worst fucking dj ever to put a cd in a machine and press play while dancing like an arse was probably distracting me so i caught the wrong bus. i can't even remember the last time i caught a wrong bus (or at least one that didn't get me where i was going eventually). but an interesting little detour. for some reason the extra bus stop was also outside a pub. was this accidental? are pubs following me? or are busdrivers alcoholics? is the best way to get a better local bus service to an area to build more pubs? perhaps it's a kind of sub/urban symbiotic life process.

and then there was nothing for it but to snooze on the couch while watching Singing in the Rain. i constructively used the time during the bizarre 10 minute dance sequence with Cyd Charisse to draw stick figures and little faces all over my left foot and ankle. henna tattoos are very pretty, but i think biro is very underrated.

and now there is nothing but sleep.