"Look at me, jerking off in the shower... This will be the high point of my day; it's all downhill from here." - Lester Burnham, American Beauty.
Maybe for you, Les... but for me, it's uphill all the way.*
The Boss has gone down to Tasmania for a week, to get hitched to his ol' lady, which leaves me here all alone to get on with my work at a fantastic pace.
Only problem is, there's not a huge amount of it to do. Matter of fact, I've already finished everything on my list, pretty much.
There'll be some other stuff to do on Monday, and probably more Christmas messages, but that's it. Which means I'm just going to amuse myself by making up a stack of moving backgrounds and maybe even playing with the camera a bit.
My boss is going to come back, a wedded man, and he's going to be like, "Holy crap! You're the greatest employee in the world, nigger. Look at all this rad stuff you've made."
I'll just smile, as if to say, "Word word, B-diddy. It wasn't no baby-momma drama."
I was just thinking this when I was snapped out of my coma by the tinny tune of Bad Religion's American Jesus emanating from my mobile telephone.
"Hello!" I said into the talking part.
"Hello!" replied Jelly, through the listening part.
And then we conversed and arranged to hang out after work, with Vegie and SteveSteve.
"Have you got any smoke?" asked Jelly.
I was shocked! Have I... Have I got...
I told him as much.
"What a thing to ask!" I replied, indignant as a labrador that had just been asked if he had any 'smoke' by Jelly. "Do I have any... Well, I never!"
"Is that a yes or a no?" enquired Jelly, confused.
"That's a yes, you dolt."
And that was that. I wonder what sort of music Andrew Bolt listens to.
*Apologies to those who didn't really want to know that. I was thinking about a wet, soapy MOSSAD agent, and things just got a little out of control.
Navigation: First - Previous - Next - Last - Archive - Random