Avant garde, no?

Well, I hit the wall at around 2 p.m. yesterday afternoon. A wall hitting that was due, in no small part, to my staying up until *2* reading a biography of Paul Jennings - but more on that in a few days, probably.

Anyway, I hit the wall around 2ish, but I managed to pull myself together and get some coffee, and then I finished work and then, as I was leaving work, I heard this weird noise come from the speakers in my suite.

This meant two things:

Shit, I forgot to turn my speakers off.

And also:

Holy crap, somebody has SMS'd me!

It was Jelly, informing me that he had spoken to Gabby Brown on the Js the previous evening on the subject of begging. I called him to find out what his position was - I never discovered this, incidentally. We caught up on what was happening in our respective lives, and I told him about Max, and he very much knew where I was coming from.

He told me, "Yeah, it was the footy last week, so all those footy types came down and stayed here... they were really funny, but sometimes you just wanted to hit them."


One thing I didn't know about Jelly, though, was that he had been fired from his job. Apparently some time ago, which just goes to show how much attention I'd been paying.

He was working at a Lygon Street pizzeria as a dishwasher, and was fired due to his insistence on actually cleaning the dishes.

A typical workplace argument between Jelly and the Management:

Boss: Hurrya up witha thosea dishes...a.
Jelly: I'm still cleaning it, man.
Boss: It'sa alreadya cleana.
Jelly: There's still food on ita... shit, now I'm doing it.
Boss: Don'ta worrya, we'lla justa covera ita witha somea fooda.


I think I might try and make the effort to find out the name of the restauranta.

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