usual evening with the flatmate at the pub. Very pleasant. I'm faced with a little bit of a book crisis at the minute, I'm rattling through them but thought I had bought a fair few to keep me going for a while but when looking for what to start next I realised I do have very few available. I have thought about going up town on saturday to do some book shopping but that would mean potentially going in to town twice in two days. At least when the office moves I'll have a fair few huge book shops on the doorstep rather than a dinky one in the glades in bromley. I still haven't decided about potentially meeting up with old friends in town tonight, I'm so terribly indecisive. I keep thinking 'but you could just stay in and watch a film and read and that'. It feels a bit sad when you actually look forward to a night in on a Friday. So I'll more than likely end up going in to town no times in two days as I'm so fucking lazy. I even thought about a little jaunt to brighton tomorrow but I may as well be realistic. So I thought if I could get a couple of books in Bromley to tide me over the need won't be so pressing. So I set off up the street to face the lovely Glades shopping centre. Ad on a bin 'Cheryl Baker beat hair loss misery'. A big ad saying 'bad boys wear (some watch or other)', what a cunty ad. I raked through the shelves for fucking ages, i couldn't find one book that seemed interesting that I hadn't read. urgh. All the shelves are full of books of 'why don't penguins feet freeze?' and 'can cows walk downstairs?'. FUCK OFF. Those combined with 'science of doctor who (or whatever)' books
Fuck me, here's the tuna melt next to me, eat with your fucking mouth closed, please. Hopefully there won't be a benjy's nearby when we move up town. It makes me feel ill listening to people eating like this.
I even tried walking through to the top end of town to the other Waterstones. Walked past the 'grotto' in the centre of the Glades, some poor fucker stood there with his elf costume on. He was in his 20's as well. Bought back memories of Clay's garden centre with me as the fucking elf. Someone selling dreadul backlit photos of waterfalls and that with moving lights behind them. Horrific. There was nowt in that waterstones either so I was faced with a huge waste of a dinner hour. being up that end of town left me with the option of mark's or Pret. I go for Pret. They have the veggie special of cheese and chargrilled peppers. Also get a cheese and tomato croissant, which must be about 70% fat. Not the healthiest dinner. The sandwich was pretty fucking shit, swimming in mayonnaise with fucking huge bits of tomato in to overwhelm the taste of the peppers. When holding it the bread squashed down to about a micron thick making for a quite sickening dinner. The croissant was ok but way too fatty to be properly enjoyable.
The toilets are still fucked so it's a 4 floor journey for a fucking piss. What's worse is it's floor 2, which is occupied by pricks. One was trying to vomit in the toilet when I was down their earlier. Whenever I need to vomit when over a toilet pan I just imagine all the turds that have fallen in the bowl that I am leaning over. Generally works. Didn't offer the man my tip though. Lad in the office disappears for fucking epic dumps twice a day and they always seem to sychronise with when I need a piss. Stand up to see h is seat empty. I hate walking in to the toilet knowing he's sat behind the door pushing his branflakes and sandwiches out of his backside. His shit really fucking stinks which just reminds me I'm sort of breathing in airborne particles of his turd |
