Monthly Archives: September 2003

The lost art of spitting

Nobody ever spits any more, apart from the stereotypes of footballers and ethnic minorities. Then they only do it in a medium that’s under observation for you by a third party, so that a narrator can huff about how it’s … Continue reading

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He knew he was right

Only a week or so ago I had been polishing off a slim volume of Kafka’s short stories that I had bought in the USA years and years ago. Like anyone petrified by the monument that Kafka has become, I … Continue reading

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Only connect

After a morning of silence on our tortured network, connection to the rest of the internet was finally repaired at around noon. L. had just began telling us that we could all go and work from home, when the phone … Continue reading

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Bin and gone

In Hyndburn they have introduced fines for people who leave their bin bags out on the wrong day. Presumably they won’t yet introduce fines for refuse collection companies that are wholeheartedly shit. When binmen aren’t striking, or aren’t coming on … Continue reading

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Not wheelie

Following our success at getting the council to give us a recycling box (although, inexplicably and unpredictably, the recyclier-than-thou gents on the van turned their noses up at a few tin lids this week) I rang the same department to … Continue reading

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Stripped bare

They’ve filled the strip of scarified tarmac outside the house, the half-length of our street from London Road to mid-way between there and Old Road. Work presumably had to be rushed in the end because, owing to the workies leaving … Continue reading

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Down and out

Coming back from a “celebratory lunch” (my arrival, and other people’s full year at a company that’s only slightly older than that) we found the burglar alarm going. Oh no, we thought, someone’s stolen L, the office manager, in our … Continue reading

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