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a semi-successful lunch-hour

Not that I want to give the impression that I only just got back from lunch, mind. If only. Damn, it's so hot ...

So the watch-mending lady couldn't find a tongue large enough to mend my broken buckle on my amazing plane watch which I would show you all but, heck, no camera ... never mind, though, I've managed a fix using one of those smooth twist-ties electronics come confined by. It's quite comfy.

In the coffee room someone had left mugs soaking. On the the skin that had formed on the brownish fluid in one of them, the sun was catching an oilslick rainbow. I thought (for about the 53rd time this week) shit, no camera, then resolved to stop whining and do something about it in my lunch hour. I found something small, not covered with random protruberances and marginally aesthetic; however, it was cagey about battery power. I actually had to dig down to the manual to find the killer phrase "batteries may last for a very short time" but it was there alright. Why do companies bother making cameras cheap by removing the batteries? It's just annoying. But on the bright side I've not spent £99 I don't really have to spare.

Not only succeeded in taking a deep breath and visiting Lush, but found a new shampoo bar called Hard especially for rough and unmanageable hair in harsh, mineralised water. It's pink and daffodil yellow! Then a cheery staff member attacked me with a massage bar I'd always assumed was one of their cloying chocolate thingies but actually was delicately scented* with lemon and geranium! After giving me a brief forearm massage (the web editor's favourite!) she passed me over to the till where I was given free salt scrub and told I'd spent, oh, about as much as I'd just spent on a small quantity of sunscreen at Boots. As I left, the massage bar madam was plastering one of the other staff with gold body-glitter, both were giggling like maniacs. I swear, they must force feed their staff prozac. And surgically remove their sense of smell.

oh sigh

I forgot earlier to post this. It's another of the unfinished strips, this time from October last year. Being from the Under the Ice sequence, it's unlikely to make much sense, even if you read it in context, as the sequel to Saturday's Child, and, prior to that, Sisyphus. I should just treat is as an expression of why I like my expensive and beautiful inks so much -- as this is a 100% traditional media strip, straight scan. No digital additions at all. I didn't even correct the smudge in the bottom panel. And ooh, oh, those are pretty colours.

*Yes, hard to believe, I know.

Comments

( 6 worms — Feed the birds )
sdn
9th Jun, 2006 17:11 (UTC)
i'm trying to imagine you in a lush store.

the lush lj community is amusing. people post photos of all of the lush things they own. "look at my stash!"

cleanskies
9th Jun, 2006 18:07 (UTC)
in lush or a lush?
I come over all butch. I can't help it. I take it you mean lushcosmetics? Eeek. That's a heck of a lot of bath bombs. Probably like me and my inks, muttering to themselves --- it's cheaper than a crack habit ...
ms_slonim
9th Jun, 2006 17:36 (UTC)
Jeremy, you really should make copies of some of your story sequences and get a literary agent. You should be published dammit! 'Going to Gigs with Siouxie' is one of my favourite things ever. I want to own it printed by Bloomsbury with a natty wrap-around cover.
cleanskies
9th Jun, 2006 18:07 (UTC)
can I order a literary agent off the internet, like a mail-order bride?
ms_slonim
9th Jun, 2006 18:54 (UTC)
Yeah! Go buy one!
elfbiter
9th Jun, 2006 21:29 (UTC)
I could consider that as well.
( 6 worms — Feed the birds )