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looking at my jeans with one eye closed

pauldrobertson

Perth, Australia

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Artist's Description

a 2b pencil paper and too much time on my hands…

Futility man sat at desk, chewing his pen. He was sitting in front of his heater and it was on high, so his toes were all toasty. The word “toasty” made him think of food all of a sudden, but as he considered (as he often did) he realised that acquiring toast would involve going to the kitchen, thus removing his toes from their present position of toastiness in order to acquire toast and, really, it just wasn’t worth it.
“This may be why I’m thin,” he thought.
He had had a good day.
He mused on the day and it’s general goodness.
He had even, at a point early in the day’s proceedings, had toast. This made him feel even better still as he remembered.
“I have already had some toast today,” he thought.
“I don’t really need any more then,” he decided, not that he thought he had been particularly likely to get up and get any anyway.
“I’m okay for toast,” he mulled the words over and took a good suck at his pen, which was pretty soggy by now, let me tell you, “for now.”
Not only had he had toast, he had also managed to squeeze a nap into the days frantic inactivity. He was PRET-TY excited about that having happened, as he wasn’t normally organised enough to remember how much he liked napping, though he rarely forgot how much he liked toast.
He managed to prize a bit of the pen off and chewed it, nodding. That was some tasty pen. He had a momentary quandary, soon overcome, when he espied his cigarettes and had to choose between them and his pen. He tried both momentarily, but found he wasn’t getting full enjoyment from either, and left his pen carefully at the top of his keyboard. For later chewing.
“I’ve really given that pen a chewing that it won’t soon forget, " he reflected, though there was always the problem of the damned ink stains – to think of the shirts that he’d ruined. And that awful blue ink taste, though red wasn’t too bad.
Either way, it was important to remember that when this happened it was not good to talk to girls you were interested in. They tended to look at you oddly and slowly back away. This happened also with police and any members of the judiciary.
Best done only in the privacy of the futility cave. Where such actions belonged, and were accepted, even engaged in as sporting activities on festive days.

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Artwork Comments

  • Zeanana
  • Gisele Bedard
  • heydiddles
  • pauldrobertson
  • Teleis
  • mufa
  • Siamesecat
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