Sunday, 3 August 2008

Un-easy like sunday morning

It's time the tale was told:

According to late-capitalism my life should being going like this at this very moment I'm should be tapping away writing this on my wireless laptop, outside on some teak garden furniture under a large canvas sun shade in my garden over looking the Med, dressed in a spotless white shirt and khaki chinos, there's coffee and fresh juice in easy reach. My beautiful partner wanders out with a tray, she's fresh from the special K ad, in the distance our unblemished cherubic children are playing with a large red balloon which they let go as it drifts upwards it turns into the Japanese flag which is being gazed upon by an aspirational Japanese girl, the only cloud on the horizon is that our Dalmatian might jump up on the table and nick a croissant, while we react in mock horror!

I'm not the man you think I am:
You wont be surprised to find things aren't going like this, putting aside spotty dogs and cereal eating models I can't even use my new mobile Internet dongle do dah to access half the sites I want to . It needs me to prove I'm 18 ( can't they see I'm married to Miss Croydon 1993 with Saffron and little Josh chasing dear old spotty round my patio) something that didn't happen when I paid stacks of money for a new phone or when they take my phone bill out of my account every month, it didn't happen when it took 45 mins to sort the thing out the in the vodafone shop the other lunch time, no it happens on a Sunday morning when everythings shut and I should be drinking juice with the woman from the DFS ad!

I can log in and sort it out but that would require me remembering a password and code I set up years ago before I had a computer at home and got a paper phone bill and who really wants a funky lifestyle account with a phone company when they could be feeding black and white dogs french pastries or blowing up large balloons.

I only wanted to check my flickr account which is obviously sullied and verboten because some users like to post pictures of their naked wives for people 1000 of miles away to gawp at.

So much like the balloon my hopes of a seamless techno future are drifting skyward. Thankfully, I bought a copy of this for 20p yesterday, so I'm not too unhappy (oh I don't know why I haven't got it before, I only had a few quid pocket money and paper rounds paid nowt and wanted the cool cover of Lowlife instead and anyway BLBW had it and taped for me) .

It's on vinyl which is a bit crackly but works 20 years after it was made and doesn't randomly stop me listening to certain track because Stephen M sings about some youths loins.

Now time for some coffee ( I bet mines better than Vodafone's) and my model of Croydon airport!

ps: Bloggers spell check wants to swap "Croydon" for "Crouton"

If you can't be bothered to walk over to your records this kind person has posted "Reel around the fountain" so I don't have to which is good of them.

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