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BEYOND BORING Part 4 By Angela Nunscunt on Friday, 15 April 2011 at 01:04 Last night I was offered a job. Lifting laminated floors from a high-rise apartment in osdorp, just a wee cycle out of the Centrum overlooking the big lake. My pay is all the wooden floors, so it's up on markplaats for sale now. 200 Euros O.N.O. (if anyone is looking for it). Good quality. Call 0625 15 14 18. I made some homemade bread and humus for breakfast, which I eat while cycling with my old Scottish china from Edinburgh to the apartment. The views from the balcony were amazing; I got a great idea for a band photo shoot. We’ll have to do it guerilla style, some illegal roof climbing with no health and safety will be required, old skool. My favorite. After a good mornings work we set out to see what was going on in the local shopping complex. I walked out of hema with a bottle of apple juice and boysen berry 35% off sticker attached, somehow I forgot to pay for it on the way out but didn’t get caught. It tasted so good. Not my style really, the memories of getting caught for stealing a metal cassette from john menzies on sauchiehall street, Glasgow when I was 15 put the shits up me so bad, shoplifting never came into my life since. Although I did walk out of a restaurant without paying for a steak not so long ago, but that was another story, a very drunken story. When I can be arsed, the diary will hear about that one day. The shopping centre was a casting directors dream. It reminded me of the faces you get in the Savoy centre in Glasgow. The dress sense had no sense. Lots of cheap threw together leggings with flowery prints on blouses and battered housewife’s with big hair. The arse end of Amsterdam. Big bums which I found unusual. We walked around xenos looking for a tape measure and I stood staring at a woman who was bending down showing her g-string riding up the crack of her bottom. I got a hard on for the first time in about a week. Must be the alcohol withdrawal. I’m not one to letch but I was enjoying the fact that I could do this without a care in the world. I never did get to see her face. Back up the high rise, I stood looking out over the lake; below and in front of me I noticed lines. Everything was made up of lines. Man made lines. The trees at the front of the lake were all lined. The tramlines. The bike lanes were lined. The tram stop had go fast lines printed on the glass. The lines of the paving and lines of the brickwork. The lines on the plaza, the lines on the balcony, the tiny mesh squares on the veranda boxing every

detail of the lines within the lines of the squares. An easy drawing for a child to draw if they just drew it square by square making up the view of lines. All man made. The lines on the matt, which sat outside the balcony door, the lines of the doorframe. The lines of the laminate floor that I’d piled up against the wall in lines of ten. The lines of the tape that I masked them together with. It all looked quite beautiful really. I have to go back and draw this with a ruler and a pencil. Got a text message from Doris in London, he says there's some possible freelance in 3 weeks. I miss working with Doris. It’s been too long. Then I got a call from student S, I was late for our photography lesson. So we finished up and I stressed the importance of terry Richardson and his appealing simplicity. That and more. S and her boyfriend were both tanned from 4 days in France. Peeling even. He came out of the shower bleeding, so we made it a photo opportunity. Good people. Holland’s finest. After a nice afternoon of passing on the creative torch. We got a call to do a shoot for a theater company in the oost Friday night. Low dough but high possibilities. For friends. Talented wild friends with endless imagination. Can’t wait till tomorrow Lady M didn’t show up for band practice, I HOPE SHE'S O.K the drums lay untouched. Benny J and I (both alcohol free) cranked up the laptop beats, plugged in the groovy retro hired guitar for 3euro 25 cents and tripped out, singing perfect new harmonies to a new song. Made up a no wavey nirvana style thing for a laugh and left feeling magic. Picked up my old bike outside S's place and gave Benny J the keys to his all-new boneshaker. Bullet pointy part4 but I’m fucking tired. Happiness doesn’t write so well. I need more pain in my life. Be bad. Over n oot! Like · · Share · Delete Saffira Kerster, Peter Suyderhoud and Simone Galstaun like this.

Peter Suyderhoud yes i need a new floor!!15 April at 04:51 路 Unlike 路 1 person


this descrition must .have more than 10 characters. 9.10

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