There was cause, last night, to go into town. This is something I avoid at all costs but sometimes needs must and all that. With the impending festive explosion gaining momentum, the stores are full of crap that they expect people to buy. Mounds of stuff. Absolute and utter waste in terms of money, effort and existing in the first instance. Then I noticed the Virgin store "rebrand". If ever there was a pointless exercise then this must be a textbook case. The shopping areas take on the general aspects of a Romero scenario at an accelarated rate at this time of the year. Calling them headless chickens would be damning 'em with certifiable praise. And they're not zombies either though because such a beastie wouldn't deean themselves by slothing along the pavie staring at a mobile phone screen. Walking along the precinct, I genuinely felt utterly detached from the whole thing. I was actively looking forward to getting to the dentist, at least there was some purpose involved in that. Despite the sign that says "NO MOBILE PHONES" in the waiting room, it doesn't deter the jones of your average patient. Oh, no. Perhaps it doesn't apply to them? What is it with the hold these fucking devices have over people? Could somebody explain it to me because I have no idea. And why don't I have the desire to gaze into these things. What's wrong with me? To quote the old A&R (that's Angel and Rich) chestnut. They'll possibly say "There's nothing wrong with you" but there must be. Mustn't there?
However, there is sanity and great, great writing at Amy Rigby's Blog to sooth the savage beast. Savour it, because I know I do. Hopefully the gremlins that have been plaguing this pc have been banished. Only time will tell but I'm done for the night either way. Tomorrow is allegedly another day...
