Ricblog

The shop is dead and Jonathan Richman (for what seems like the billionth time) sings his generic blues rock to an abscent audience. I’m sat in front of a Christmas tree that’s so heavily decorated that you can’t actually tell it’s a tree at all, just a pyramid of blue balls. Part of me can’t wait for a hyper active child to come in a and knock it over. At least that would add an air of excitement to what clearly is going to be a rather long day. There’s a plastic snow flake hanging behind till 5 that keeps poking me in the eye, and i’m going to take it down in a couple of minutes as it’s going to cause permanent damage to my retena, if it stays up any longer. Christ, i’m bored, really bored, and it’s only 11 o’clock. I’m so bored that i’m mentally mapping out my journey around Sainsbury’s in Stockport. Oh, by the way, Sainsbury’s pork is simply the finest you can buy. So hot foot it down to your local branch and stock up now. You can never have too much pork y’know.