The fate that awaits

We have previous with Martin here. Just the other day we told you about how he boarded a train to nowhere after complaining to Southwestern Rail when he missed the last train to Bristol (entirely his own fault). Perhaps you have been wondering whatever happened to that poor soul. Well, let me clear that up for you…

Martin was stuck on that train for what felt like an eternity to him but was, in fact, more like 3 days. Just long enough for people to start getting worried about him but not long enough for it to be an unsolved mystery. 

Martin’s memory of the whole thing was hazy at best and the little he could remember couldn’t be explained without him sounding like a madman. He didn’t want that, he had responsibilities, and so he kept schtum about the whole matter. He never again sent a moody message to Southwestern Rail though. Or anyone else for that matter. What’s the moral of this story? You’ll just have to work it out for yourself…

Cheers

id-iom

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Other People’s Graffiti – Toy edition

Now we haven’t had an instalment of Other People’s Graffiti for a while so we thought we’d best rectify this. I was strutting around the local hood and I happened to come across this exceptional piece of graffiti which also included another writer’s thoughts on said graffiti emblazoned over the top. Now if you don’t know what a toy is here’s an explanation:

“A Toy is an unskilled, new or inexperienced graffiti artist or writer.Toy tags or pieces are usually crossed out with the word toy or the crossers tag around it. Having a tag crossed out is considered a very deep insult and the writer of the crossed-out tag will be likely to start a “war” or beef with the crosser, resulting in a series of crossed out tags. In some areas, they seek revenge by less peaceful means.

Toys can also be classified as one who does not know the scene around them, one who does not have knowledge of local graffiti, or one whose style isn’t too good, or is still developing”

Eeek! Not a nice sentiment at all, especially when you are tagging over someone’s admittedly less than stellar work. That said the person who wrote ‘Toy’ could go back to the Academy of Jack the Lademy and practise his handstyles as well in my opinion. Maybe I’ll go back and leave a note for both of them…

Cheers

Id-iom

The last train to nowhere

Not sure what to do with himself now that he had missed the last train to Bristol, Martin had been sitting on the platform for a while when he came up with the idea to tweet  Southwestern rail to see if there’s anything to be done in order to rectify his problem. He was a little angry so perhaps his tweet was not as cordial as it could have been.

To his absolute astonishment, they sent him a message almost immediately stating that another train would pull up in about a minute to pick him up. The trouble was Martin was staring at the departures board and there was nothing going to Bristol – or anywhere else for that matter – but before he could really think about it a train pulled in to the platform and he thought he’d better board before he was stuck for the night.

As he sat down he noticed the train had lavish curtains and a general air of sophistication that hadn’t been seen on this line for at least a century. Not sure what to do Martin was looking at the doors and thinking about getting off when they silently slid shut. 

As the train pulled away from the station and around a curve Martin could see the rest of the train behind him. He saw a desperate ghostly face pressed up against each and every window he could see. Shaken, Martin sat down. He was thinking this must be the fate that awaits anyone who complains about Southwestern Rail. And do you know what? He was right.

Cheers

id-iom

Hair today, gone tomorrow

The bird-like nest on top of Diane’s head is actually her hair after just 2 sips of white wine after work on a Thursday. She intends on doing the whole bottle. She knows she has work again tomorrow but she just doesn’t care. That’s working from home for you. She read online that she can now change her hairstyle digitally using the magical power of her computer. If she can only work out how it all works then her next Zoom call should prove a little more interesting and perhaps Phillip from Marketing might finally take some notice. If not she’s going to send him a virus from a made-up but believable email address and see how he likes that instead…

Cheers

id-iom

Yes, No, Maybe, Never

When someone asks you whether you want to pop out for a pint in these weird and testing times what is your answer? Judy here is trying her best to stick to government guidelines but she just doesn’t know anymore and that’s about pretty much everything. 

What is the colour of your eyes? I don’t know. When is your birthday? Not sure. What is the colour of an orange? Pink? It’s all just a little too much for poor Judy. Her eyes are now just hollowed out depressions in the front of her face, her nose is as red as Rudolph’s and she hasn’t even had a drink in the last few weeks or at least she doesn’t think she has.

Judy has found the easiest way to answer questions nowadays is to just start replying with affirmative and negative interjections and other assorted phrases until people either get the answer they are looking for or they think she is mad. Either method seems to work. I haven’t tried this technique yet but it looks like there might be some merit to it…

Cheers

id-iom