Batman’s Parking Woes.

Batman only ever fights crime at night. This isn’t so he can discretely shadow his actions, or because bad guys tend to work after dark, but rather to avoid the strain of finding parking during business hours. The current model Bat Mobile takes up to three regular car spaces, and is often the target of vandalism due to the public attention it creates.

After several bad experiences on the tube, he refuses to catch public transport, and has sworn against Gotham City taxi drivers (who are often ex-crims). 

He is currently negotiating with the Department of Transportation, who are reviewing his application for a metropolitan parking permit. If successful, Batman is hopeful of becoming both the light and dark knight.

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Talking thoughts

It’s 3am, Wednesday morning. My thoughts talk so loud it’s hard to sleep: they’ve been arguing with each other since midnight. They tend to think over the top of one another, while I lie there in bed, restless. There’s no danger of waking up the neighbours, so I’m not going to get a knock at the door asking me to shut them up, and I can’t exactly call the police.

It’s the third night in a row that they’ve kept me up late with pointless internal chatter. They usually discuss a range of topics, but tonight it’s just sneakers. The decision not to purchase- http://www.ebay.com/itm/378037-010-Mens-Air-Jordan-11-Retro-XI-Black-Varsity-Red-Breds-2012-Playoffs-/200892033220?pt=US_Men_s_Shoes&var=&hash=item2ec61928c4- bothers them. In fact, it continues to fuel their debate.

One thought argues that I’ll never wear them, the other thinks that’s the whole point. In a few hours, I’ll have to go to work, but my thoughts will no doubt sleep in. For about half an hour, or at least until breakfast, I’ll be free from thought, unable to process information. Then, coffee manages to drag my thoughts out of bed, kicking and screaming. Even after being shot with caffeine, it’s highly unlikely that they’ll produce anything productive on the way in to work.

At 9:30am, I’m late, we’re late. I land at my desk with thoughts still yawning. If I don’t start to think quick, my boss will assume that I’m hung over. He’ll ask me something work related, and perhaps include a tricky follow up question. This could be difficult.

Then the first thought of the day walks right in, sits down, and crosses one leg over the other. The thought wears heels, the thought has a name, her name is Alice. I’ve now forgotten about sneakers, even these http://www.mrporter.com/product/376055