The city was beginning to line with police officers and servicemen for a funeral in Town Hall that wasn't recalled until the highlights reel of the late evening news. For the registration form prior to walking through the doors of either convention a new designer in the field was born.
Most other people looking for a walk-around were only too eager to tell others of the tertiary institutions they were locked into. Around and round, freebies abound. But on the day and time on scoping the scene, there wasn't that much to be seen. A stinky toy here, a golf ball there, some pens and an excellent magazine, Desktop.
In one con there were call centre gear and CRM things, in the other nothing but cool toys on making movies. The driving force behind the entire day was nothing more than a stainless steel mug from NEC. There was a popcorn dispensing man who stuck his hand in the bag, the sight threw me off and had the gulls feeding on the salts.
A blonde woman on the train sat alongside the stares of two drunkards in front. One turned and was a little tacken aback by the sight of a monoburn reading his paper. It was then the steel mug reappeared. It wasn't in hand and that was a day wasted. These nights stressed out on the uni diary and magazine have left the brain with nothing more than that of a junkie's, useless and spaced.
Saturday, 2 March 2002 - 04:27
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