Gesture Average Grandstand

After I went to the laundrette our washing machine at home turned peculiar. The next time I used it, it span all my clothes together into one big sock. I threatened it with the scrapheap, told it it'd end up as the insides of a post-apocalyptic clown-car on some zoom-boom TV show with everyone laughing while it became smithereens. That night we left the back door open and it waddled out from under the counter, through the garden and into the alley. We later heard from the neighbours that it was trying to form a gang with all the homeless devices. But it was unsuccessful and in the morning I coaxed it back inside and apologised even though I hadn't done anything wrong. I fed it some bedsheets and it sloshed them around all day and started beeping just as I was going to sleep. I apologised again and said the going-to-the-laundrette thing was a one-time-only deal, I was desperate, a bit drunk maybe, it's not the kind of thing I usually do, ask anyone. And it just beeped and beeped and beeped. And I unplugged it and it began to screech. So I dragged it into the street and destroyed it with a sledgehammer.

No Doubt Note

They made a pool of jelly for a famous boat to float on. It was green and people came to say blimey at it. It was the most jelly that had ever been directly underneath a boat. At night they illuminated the whole imbroglio. It wasn't edible. I didn't see it. I didn't research the second sentence of this entry at all. But it's probably quite accurate and who's checking? Right. My town briefly had more jelly outdoors than yours. I think that's something we can all agree on and intensely care about. I missed it all gladly in a faraway field watching a handfasting. The hands were fasted and drinks were had. Music was flailed to and a hot hog gobbled.

Call It What You Like

Sometimes you're an alarm clock as well as a postman.
Good night was it?
No one got hurt.
Sign there.
Your machine isn't sensitive enough. You can't even tell it's a signature. I might as well just be pressing a button.
But then there'd be no proof that I hadn't pressed the button myself.
There's no proof you're not a forger.
Impossible. It doesn't respond to my actions.
It can't be that sophisticated.
It wasn't at first.
I had to teach it who I was.
Was it very disappointed?
Your hair's looking less unacceptable than usual.
Thanks. I just had some of it removed.
I hope no money changed hands.
I did it myself.
By accident?
I wanted to look like a better version of me.
Not one that knows what it's doing?
You don't seem to be in much of a rush.
Time and a half today.
Divorce to pay for?
Your flies are undone.
I'm glad you've noticed.
I couldn't help it.

Fresh for Eighty Eight

I wake up at seven with my phone jumping up and down on my forehead deleting the dreams about slug-snakes in the garden and violence in the future. And I mumble to the bathroom about breakfast and freedom while the rest of the household goes one by one to work. My day shifts have vanished while the pub suffers refurbishment by pastel-brained interiorists. They're trying to sell it. It's a mystery how much the new paint splatters on all (all) the tables add to its value. I should've paid more attention in business studies. Then I could make the big, lengthy decisions. The biggest decision I make is how many cubes of ice to put in the ice well. Tuesday to Thursday it's about two hundred and fifty, and by Friday I'm usually optimistic and go for four hundred, but Mondays I like to gamble because it's always very quiet and I once got away with thirty, and when the evening shift came in at six there was only one cube left and I felt like a genius from the future. I couldn't communicate my exhilaration. It's harder to gamble with the lemon slice and lime wedge totals because you're better off just lasering up a whole fruit at a time, so every day you start with roughly the same amount and the way to enjoy an element of risk in that area is by offering people garnish where they'd not normally expect it, and they're usually happy to be asked and say yes, I will have some lime for my cranberry tremendous customer service arousal thanks, and you deplete your stocks at an unnecessarily fast rate, becoming insane with delight as the numbers approach zero and the clock approaches armageddon. Instead of all that I've been on the couch.