Quicker than the present

Briefly this morning I experienced a real life cartoon moment. For just one second my life became that of Calamity James of Beano featuring fame. Yes, the old style one, the good one. You remember, little squelchy things, keys to life etc, all of which James seemed completely unaware of. I'm sorry, I just spend half an hour looking for a picture of the miserable little weasle and he is no where to be found on the entire poxy fucking web. I'm rather ticked off at that.
Anyways, I found a coverted golden ticket marked million pound prize, in gold, on the pavement on the way to work. I felt special, and left it where it was. It was a thing.
Also, I'm getting envious of people's possesion of the digital picture taking equipment. I really would have liked to document the roofly destruction of the building I can see from my window. No, really...

Nudging The Tapestry of Life

Currently, I have a mental note. It says 'stop eating so many bisuits'. It can't be helped, I tell it. Fate is conspiring against me, in an effort to singlehandedly keep the McVities corporation afloat. It brings me really big packets of said product forth from Tescos for a relatively cheap price.
Actually, I want to talk about the Tescos here in Lincon. I went there yesterday.
The walk from my house to Tescos is possibly the most depressing, soul destroying journey I have ever had to regularly undertake, and I went to school. It starts off with my leaving the house, which is never something I'm wild for, and heading down my street to the main road that runs through Lincoln. This usually involves my distain for the people with a dog and no front lawn who leave it in their fortress-like paved front yard to shit to its hearts content whereby they hose said shit out under the front gate and across the pavement. I hate these people.
Upon reaching the main road, I am greeted by practically a duel carriageway running through a residential area. Kebabs debris and shit litter the pavements. I dodge across the road, bereft of regular pedestrian crossing oppotunities, and continue down the road to Tescos.
Lined with poxy pavement fronting terraces, the pavements are littered with rubbish, mostly polystyrene packets from burgers and other filthy takeaways. Everything is dirty.
To actually get to tesco, I have to make a large detour as there is an actual duel carriageway in the way, running directly through where terraces once stood. The hideous bulk of warehouse stores edge the other side, where my goal lies. I go through the underside of the carriageway.
Broken glass, vomit, rotting wood and filth abound. I dodge throuhg a car park, and across a busy junction with no provision for people with feet whatsoever.
There is no pavement to Tescos. There are no trees.
The message is clear, if you have no car, you are worth approximately shit.
Who built these places? Does no one care for their surroundings? I am annoyed. It may fade, but more than likely it will lead to me burning down the empty Office World building, which has clearlygone out buisness. What? Oh, didn't you realise that a town the size of lincoln did not need an office supply warehouse the size of a football ground? The sheer greed of it disgusts me. I am not in a good mood.