There is something fundamentally wrong about moshing to hard rock while ironing a pale blue shirt for work, getting all of the little creases out and making oneself all nice and spick and smart for one's customers.

(Yes, I would have been less bothered had it been a black shirt.)

~

I love the way that, every year at about this time, all the long years of experience with leafleteer-dismissal come flooding back. And it gets earlier every year, too. Yesterday someone handed me a flyer, and without breaking stride, I looked at it for two paces then flicked it back over my shoulder at him. Judging by the outraged noise from behind me, I might have hit him. Or, possibly, he just really cares a great deal about giving people half-price entry to strip clubs.

I also love it when people care a great deal about their shitty jobs. It makes them so much easier to deflate.

~

Today, a guy stopped me in the street and told me I was on his website. I bit back the obvious retort (Really? I'm on my website, too), and took his business card. Turns out it's not a website, it's a Flickr photostream, but I am indeed on it.

I suppose this makes me a minor local celebrity now. Just like tef.