Thursday 24 May 2012

Shop Stew Hard

I work near the Student Union of Manchester University. About a year ago they extended the shop so that it has a second entrance on Oxford Road. This was perfectly convenient for me bobbing in. A couple of months back this was shut down again while they renovated. (They aren’t just pissing away the 10 grand a year off everyone; No they are spending it on making everything look nicer. well they aren’t spending it on any extra teaching time.)

It is still being renovated. What the fuck is going on in there? How state of the art and eco-friendly can a small newsagent type shop be?

Challenge Anneka used to build an orphanage in three days. Yes they had loads of people helping and people donating stuff. But there are quite a few people working on this shop. Like ten. And it looks the same as it did a few months ago. Maybe they just go in and doss about every day and all the bookworm university types are scared to say anything.

It’s just a few shelves for fuck’s sake.

Away from the poor building rate at the Student’s Union one thing has developed very well: the technology of machines that allow you to pay by note. I remember the first time I used one and you had to make sure it was all flat and a certain way round. Now you can basically force a screwed up note into the hole and the machine recognises what it is. Remarkable.

Thursday Book Corner

I downloaded The Master and Margarita on the urged advice of esteemed colleague and dare I say friend (to other people he likes, not me) The Drum on the 2 March. “It’s brilliant,” he said in a way that was both sexy and wise , “you will definitely enjoy it.” People don’t really recommened books to me, often assuming I am unable to read. So it was something I decided to act on. After downloading it there and then (well I bought it there and then, technically I didn’t download it until I got home and turned the wireless on my Kindle on) I swore it would be the next book I read.

Since then I have read:

And now I am halfway through Small Man in a Book by Rob Brydon. I am not saying I am a liar here but it is clear that my word, even to myself, is not worth the insincere breath it is spoken with. Also clear: my aversion to fiction has not been cured.

But if it weren’t for reading Brydon’s book I wouldn’t have seen this photo of possibly the best dressed 8-year-old future comedy star with a ghoulish looking Father Christmas. And I am definitely a better man for having seen it. He rocks that leather jacket.

A Young Rob Brydon with that man from the end of Indianna Jones and The Last Crusade who guards the grail dressed as Father Christmas.

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