#busstopsandchipshops

[tashatime]

Friday night, rain beating down on the humid city releasing the smell of warm tarmac and acid rain into Joiner St. Outside the unicorn strangers huddled round a mobility scooter in the doorway, poking their heads out to exhale puffs of smoke at strangers dashing by. A woman pushed her way out flushed from the combination of the pubs heating and summer humidity. Little coins attached to the trim of her top chinked and wiggled in time with her wrinkled low hung breasts-weathered by time, electric beaches and long Spanish holidays. "Out the f**king way Gordo" she squeezed past an older gent pawing him gently in the face with a grin, a gold tooth revealed matching her fake orange glow, makeup applied like trump had melted on her face. She lit a pale blue cocktail cigarette which was instantly extinguished by a large drop of rain. "**** ****" a tirade of expletives followed as she shook her sovereigned fist skyward, bingo wings flapping wildly. "Maves" said Gordo quietly tapping her on the shoulder. Maves swung her body round almost tripping over the scooter, Gordo passed her a half eaten pasty smiling his whiskers twitching. She perched on the basket of the red scooter and took his offering. "I love you Maves" he winked-crows feet wrinkling... "and I love pasties" she replied with a warm smile slipping her creased satin hand in his. #love #forever #mcr #manchester #lettering #illustration #typography #busstopsandchipshops

[tashatime]

I was in co-op earlier strolling in the veg section, cooling down after the heat of the day had consumed most of my energy. As I rounded into the pet food I stopped as I saw a tall thin man, hair slicked back eighties wet look style, a large hooked nose with mirrored wrap around shapes propped atop, they reflected the colours of his pink nylon sweatsuit-darts of shiny yellow fabric adding to the overall look. He had Garfield socks picking out of mens dress shoes and his foot was gently tapping on the floor as if he was listening to an imaginary walkman, he was dressed in such an array of eras there was only one thing for it-I sloped over and tapped him on the waist, he looked down at me, HUGE black pupils appearing over his glasses. "Hi" I chirped smiling. He licked his dry lips and applied cola lipgloss... "are you a time traveler?" I asked-he raised his eyebrow a huge arch of fine hair with 3 dark longer strands waving like tentacles "no" he answered looking away, picking up a can of dog food "no" he repeated again... which in my mind means yes as let's face it time travellers are going to lie #lettering #illustration #typography #busstopsandchipshops

[tashatime]

Propped against the boarder of Night & Day and Dry bar on Oldham street a girl bare unshaven legs slipped into unlaced dirty white converse a highball glass of gin and tonic held so loosely in her nail bitten fingers the lime had slipped out onto the plastic toe caps. As each minute ticked by she slid a little further down the wall, her slim tall body slowly cooling. An older heavy set man red faced from sun and lager saw his chance-he slid over and leaned next to her shouldering her up slightly. Though she had lost a few inches to gin he still was at a height disadvantage he smiled up at her revealing rows of tiny smoke darkened teeth. The sun broke from the clouds-shining on them giving the scene a religious oil painting touch. The light shone through his ginger blonde beard and highlighted the sparse stubble on his head revealing his likeness to the Mitchell brothers. He reddened with excitement as he spoke over her every time she tried to intercept with "but..." he swallowed her airtime joyously. He finally finished his chatter- she had finally buckled to his eyelevel... a small silence. Her spare hand rose up and stole the lambert and butler from behind his ear in long delicate fingers dropping under the cigarettes weight. "But..." she drawled one eye closed the other eyeing him sharply, "do feel free" tumbled a few more words- he puffed out his sweaty check moob under marks starting to smart.. he smiled wider more darker Peggy teeth ... her head tipped forward as the rest of her drink poured on the floor. "But do feel free to..." she repeated finally jamming the cig into the corner of her mouth, sticking to her dry lip freeing her to finish ...feel free to f*ck off" the cigarette dropped to the floor, stacking up the gin and he slid away to find the shadows #lettering #busstopsandchipshops #design #typography #mundaneaday

[tashatime]

I haven't seen a good egging for a while but tonight was a magic moment. A gaggle of young women in high high heels scampering up Portland street like excited new born gazelles, all waving along the pavement blown by the breeze through their willowy legs. The clicking of the fake louboutins almost drowning out the revving of a boy racer in his Vauxhall twitching at the lights. Red flicked to green and they sped off arms waiving out of the window like American air dancers advertising they were pricks- suddenly along with the shout of OYYYY an egg shot from the wind down window-aimed at the gazelle girls carefully coifed curls-just missing and bouncing off one of their fully furred gilet. The fluff protecting the shell hurled it backwards smashing uncomfortable on the side of a much larger target. The new hit was sporting a shaved head, angry stare and a gym set body squeezed into a black bomber and held to the floor with a pair of sturdy scuffed toe capped boots. He stared up over a broken (surprisingly handsome) nose, the girls stifled slightly nervous giggles-Time slowed, and so did the traffic, the nova racers jeers quietened and they became static, those stripes were going no faster. Port street relaxed to watch as boxer man strode over to the car and slowly opened the passenger door.... #lettering #manchester #typography #design #busstopsandchipshops

[tashatime]

Stood in Waterstones travel section waiting for MrB to use the loo. I ended up stood behind two older gents, one had the essence of Kernel Sanders in body, mainly beard but not in the smell of chicken that was more butterscotch and whisky. The other fellas feet were clad in bowling shoes, so tight and tiny I took several minutes trying to figure how his air balloon figure was still stood upright. Sanders was leaning heavily on the Spanish section his gingham clad shirt gently knocking over what looked like a cookery book in the wrong isle. They were having a husky low conversation about drones, whiskers twitching conspiratorially. "They are everywhere!" Concluded bowling balloon, "EVERYWHERE!" He stamped a tiny foot and struck an equally tiny fist on the list belt planet section causing France to fall. They walked away slowly bumping into each other repeatedly as they waddled down the stairs leaving me terrified that a swarm of drones were hoarding round the building blackening the sky like locust, hungry to deliver their Amazon packages. I picked up France and eyed the window waiting #drones #locust #busstopsandchipshops

[tashatime]

"Oy love, oy,oy, oy love... love? Oy..." walking home last night on lever st this was the mating call of a slightly limping (think it was fashion limp rather than medical) broad accented Scottish lad to two women who were obviously just leaving work and regretting wearing heels on a Friday. "Oy, oyyyyy" he continued as they rounded the corner to church street, he chirped still slightly behind them but near enough for them to see out of the corner of their eye and have the bile rising realisation that they indeed were his chosen prey and at least 5 Carlsburg ahead of them (not that they looked like they drank Carlsburg) the trotted a little faster and he was intercepted by a van on spear street giving up to join his mates near the flower beds who were busy laughing at him,spitting joyously on the floor and creating plumes of kinky smelling smoke- he tumbled into the fold stealing a drag from a smaller compadre whose socks were pulled so high with his tea lies tucked in he resembled some type of unintentional golf/street style mix. The seeming leader patted the lads denim jacket... mate he smiled, eyes slightly shut & exhaling smoke through his grin. "Maaaaaate, you gotta cover that desperation, you reek of it mate" the others laughed and sniffed the air a bundle of eager to please puppies "and well.... the ladies can smell desperation... desperation smells like that tooth infection you had" pat pat pat on denim shoulders, then a laugh as they drew him in and knuckled his cropped hair and eyed up another set of girls leaving basil chambers #lettering #overheardwords #busstopsandchipshops