I'm not sure why I'm going in for these slash post titles at the minute. Perhaps it's a reaction to the strange times and a reflection of post-Barthesian (dis)comfort.
Is it arse. I suspect laziness. That's what I always thought about those French post-whatever types too. The post modern as explained to a child? A bloody clever child with an outsized brain and an attention span capable of withstanding a vast ocean of boredom Monsier Lyotard. [Like we would believe anyone named after a piece of girl's PE kit anyway...]
Blogger is being weird again. I'm posting without being able to actually see my blog. It's like a mini adventure. Yeah, ok. Very mini. I'm struggling for fun this month, what can I say?
Although, cycling this week has been an adventure. The whole perma-fog, freezing colf misery thing has been challenging. I love my lovely (nearly) new bike and it is both cute and perky beyond doubt. But sometimes its abililty to remain attached to the road is challenged. Like this week. On the way home from JOB2 though, I took a shot of it in the lift.
I really should reconsider my monk-like state of isolation and consider a relationship sometime this decade.
Back to the post title.
I took another photo on Friday - just after meeting with The Manchizzle and two of the guys from Manchester Blogbound about the blogging project we hope to get going - but no more of this - it threatens to break my no-work-rule (apart from a bit of freelance moaning which I think is fair enough) - and it sort of sums up my feelings at the moment.
Now, I love Manchester. But it can get oppressive at times. On the other hand, however bad things get, there's always the sky to look to. And who could fail to love that brick and tile work?
Shortly before this snap I actually got a glimpse of paradise. Well, wonderland more like it. Ok Ok. Wondaland to be absolutely precise.