As International Ruth day approaches, I feel the need to put up a picture of a random man, culled from a random powerpoint presentation. This is no real person, you understand, except in the sense that he actually does exist somewhere. Instead, he is a man born of the machine, a remnant left in the corporate spittoon. He has an unrealistic jawline, and probably hangs out with slim hairless women. He carries around a portable shade generator, to throw his cheekbones into relief better.
Like all of us, he has secrets. He plays with big lego, building dreaming spires of brilliant white - or failing that, blue. He once ate cardboard Paris. When he grows up he wants to be Courtney Love. But perhaps this will never happen. He is random, after all.
always willing to post a comment, not even sure when this is gonna end up so i leave you with one thought, imagine waking up tomorrow morning to find out your dead.