We moved to our new offices this Monday. Nice not to have to eat at my desk daily.
There was a fierce rumour going around the day before yesterday that Willow and Will Smith were somewhere in the building.
Although I investigated throughly (popped out for a fag) I couldn’t detect any signs of celebrity. No throngs of excited people, no burly body guards – all was quiet and peaceful.
However when I was in the downstairs loo (far right of the photo above), I heard through the wall either behind or above me, a child’s voice doing vocal scales.
She was singing so badly off-key I was almost convinced it could be Willow Smith.
The only downside to the new offices is that the corner shop is further away than entirely convenient. You have to go downstairs, walk up a little grotty bridge that goes over the rail lines and then walk another few minutes to the tube, which the only corner shop for miles.
This doesn’t seem like a long walk (and it isn’t), until you run out of something small like milk or sugar and have to walk back in the cold.
Additionally there is some inconsiderate prick who keeps letting his dog do these enormous brown poos, almost comedy poos, on the little bridge over the rail lines. He never picks up after the dog and as the week wears on the poo gets scattered all over the bridge.
I hope that fucking asshole’s dog poos on his fucking head.