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I was in the job seekers office today and a woman with quite a visible moustache walked in. I felt depressed. I had to leave so I sat outside and waited for Sean to finish his phone call. A young boy chased pigeons on his bicycle. Then a hideous old fat woman sat on a bench directly opposite me. So directly opposite me that I could see her flabby thighs and underwear up her dress. I was repulsed and had to go back inside. I felt depressed. I bought tweny-four cans of beer on the way home.

Fat Security Guard

He's an awful mess, that fat security guard. I see him from time to time trundling along the shop, guarding the security of the place. Mind, whatever it is that threatens the security of the shop would surely be able to elude the fat security guard first and then proceed to its wrecking up of the place or whatever it may do. He's the subject of ridicule, that fat security guard. How is he to catch a thief? Fortunately for him there is little crime in this area. Should there be regular robbings I doubt that fat security guard would have been hired at all. The only conceivable method of him catching anyone would be to slowly build up a momentum of speed, but to do this in time with the criminal would require telepathy or some other magic trick. Perhaps that's his secret. Doubtful. He's not so good, not doin' so well, our fat security guard. He's huffing and puffing all over the place. He doesn't wear a tie. Isn't he terrible? People make lots of fun out of his shape, his size, his predicament. I feel sorry for the fat security guard. It's not fair for him to be treated like an animal (despite the numerous resemblances to one), not really. I thought he must hate himself, being fat and terrible and having fun made of you all the time. But I saw him once while walking. He was driving somewhere on a sunny day, alone, with his shades on, with his hand out the window, with music playing. I bet he didn't care about a thing at that moment.