Check out my fascinating life!
I've just been down to Bootle Strand to get an ink-jet refilled for work, but-guess what?-they couldn't do it so my only option was-to buy a new one! I made a snap decision, said hit me (my hunches usually work out) and now I'm back, unscathed, with my Canon purring next to me......
Yep, I'm back at one of my weekend, part-time sidelines within the mental health sphere, in an outpost on the planet Mundano-Bootle• to be exact. Bootle's the mean streets of Sefton, in case you're not familiar with Merseyside-and Sefton's the cob of land which stretches up the coast to Southport, getting more genteel the further north you go. Southport's probably Bootle's polar opposite, Waterloo (midway between the two) being the tipping point. Peopled by strange hybrids, not quite normal, not quite posh-Waterloo's twinned with Maghull, if that's any help. Waterloo locals usually pass the time by playing Atomic Kitten songs on their banjoes and throwing rocks at the moon (not that I'm suggesting widespread chromosomal damage).
Anyroad, back to Bootle and me ('cause it's all about me)-I'm sitting in my cubby-hole of an office, contemplating the toe-holes in the door (courtesy of a peeved tenant who wound up tasered) and watching the neighbours skipping off to town in their glad-rags.
One day, I too shall go to the ball-but tonight, I'll have to settle for watching Pets Do The Funniest Things with some feller who cut his wife's head off...
•Bootle's not mundane-far from it-I'm talking about my job. If you wish to comment on this, please e-mail me on email@example.com