Today, about 30 mins ago:
A wobbly paving slab near the office just squirted stinky water all over the front of my trousers.
Stinky Wolseley water.
The odour is an alluring mixture of revolting gone off fish and restaurant gubbins. Quite indescribably pungent.
They don't jet wash the pavement around their delivery area now, that there's scaffolding up, so who knows how long it has been stagnating to full evil beneath the concrete?
It smells like ripe dead people so I’ve had to wash the bottom of my left trouser leg in the loo and currently I’m
a) Wearing my scarf as a skirt (thank god I had opaque black tights on under my trousers in case it was cold later
b) Waiting for my trousers to dry. They’re in a spare office, at the top of a step ladder, on a desk. Any time now I’m doing to turn round and find that this is actually an episode of the I.T. Crowd.
c) Really annoyed that I was wearing designer trousers. I only have one pair and now they're draped like avant garde sculpture on a desk in the civil aviation office.
I might photograph it. It could be an exhibit for the Turner Prize next year.
Perhaps I can damage more items of clothing around their building works and then it can become part of a series....
clothing disasters and nasty niffs aside, peace out people