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2nd September 2008.
I have no imagination.
Why do I lack the creativity to decorate my surroundings.

Iím at my office and I "get a call".

So Iím sat on the toilet . . .

Bear with me, the tale doesnít stay this distasteful.

So Iím sat on the toilet blowing my nose into toilet paper . . .

No really, hang in there, it gets better.

So Iím sat on the toilet blowing my nose into toilet paper when I notice (admittedly, not for the first time, Iíve noticed this in just about every communal toilet Iíve ever visited) that there is plenty of snot and bogies smeared over the cubical walls. It occurs to me that Iím being selfish. Here I am, about to flush the contents of my nose down the toilet when I could be creating Pollock-esque murals with it.

Really, why should I dispose of this when itís obvious that itís something to be shared, admired even, by all that might use that toilet cubicle over the coming hours, maybe even days.

I shall ignore the obvious questions like, why are people picking their nose and wiping whatever they find on the interior walls of my workplace when there are several rolls of toilet paper sitting right next to them? Or, do these people wash their hands? Or do they do this at home?

Nope, they donít count. Theyíve obviously been stifling my creativity. The real question should be: Is it possible to create an entire picture that would be a tribute to the great impressionists using snot alone, or should I go for the surreal?

Oh, and I lied, this never really got any more tasteful, did it.

Gazza

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