Start the week
Revolution is in the air ...
There's been a bit of a train strike today. Trains are running at about seventy five percent and it seems as if the métro's come out in sympathy - i got in a wee bit late this morning.
As i arrived, bedraggled and steaming, i saw that the Christmas tree had been delivered.
Now, i don't know 'bout you or how you swing it, but in my book, you're either of a 'minimum is best' policy or a 'let's go for broke' ideal.
Consequently, like any magpie worth it's weight in gold, Idiot Boy threw everything and anything that glitters onto the tree .. mismatched baubles, figurines, tinsely stuff, beads ... a broken, manky, old, tatty looking, what used to be a five pointed star that could've conceivebly been bought for about 7d in 1952.
The acummulation of BI's sweat, blood and tears was as if the G*d of kitch had unleashed his wrath and furious anger unto a miniscule, metre squared area of the reception area.
All in all, the result was this thing that to all intents and appearences looked like a very angry and intimidating Dalek.
In a word : overkill.
Or just plain naf... or twee : my word of the month.
Mrs Bosswoman had a look and said "nahhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... let me explain this one to you .... " and proceeded to strip down the tree and redo everything !!
Boy Idiot frumped off into a sulk and wasn't seen again until ...
.... until, word finally got around that there'd be no Christmas party.......
Luckily for me i had to go out Pigalle on a visit and so missed the the ensuing embarassement / comedy of his explications.
I'll find out what happend tomorrow when he unloads his tail of woe and torment.
......
When i got back to the office - i didn't get approached by any hooors, by the way, as it was raining and just like police men they don't venture out when it rains - Mrs Boss woman announced that she was taking us all out to dinner next week.
I said i can't possibly go on tuesday or wednesday ..... or thursday (french football league cup matches !!) or friday (i'm working on the saturday) .... which leaves monday or ... heuum ... monday !!
I just soooo much don't want to go.
This coming thursday, i have a meeting at seven pm to be briefed on what to expect for the soup kitchen on Christmas eve.
There's been a bit of a train strike today. Trains are running at about seventy five percent and it seems as if the métro's come out in sympathy - i got in a wee bit late this morning.
As i arrived, bedraggled and steaming, i saw that the Christmas tree had been delivered.
Now, i don't know 'bout you or how you swing it, but in my book, you're either of a 'minimum is best' policy or a 'let's go for broke' ideal.
Consequently, like any magpie worth it's weight in gold, Idiot Boy threw everything and anything that glitters onto the tree .. mismatched baubles, figurines, tinsely stuff, beads ... a broken, manky, old, tatty looking, what used to be a five pointed star that could've conceivebly been bought for about 7d in 1952.
The acummulation of BI's sweat, blood and tears was as if the G*d of kitch had unleashed his wrath and furious anger unto a miniscule, metre squared area of the reception area.
All in all, the result was this thing that to all intents and appearences looked like a very angry and intimidating Dalek.
In a word : overkill.
Or just plain naf... or twee : my word of the month.
Mrs Bosswoman had a look and said "nahhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... let me explain this one to you .... " and proceeded to strip down the tree and redo everything !!
Boy Idiot frumped off into a sulk and wasn't seen again until ...
.... until, word finally got around that there'd be no Christmas party.......
Luckily for me i had to go out Pigalle on a visit and so missed the the ensuing embarassement / comedy of his explications.
I'll find out what happend tomorrow when he unloads his tail of woe and torment.
......
When i got back to the office - i didn't get approached by any hooors, by the way, as it was raining and just like police men they don't venture out when it rains - Mrs Boss woman announced that she was taking us all out to dinner next week.
I said i can't possibly go on tuesday or wednesday ..... or thursday (french football league cup matches !!) or friday (i'm working on the saturday) .... which leaves monday or ... heuum ... monday !!
I just soooo much don't want to go.
This coming thursday, i have a meeting at seven pm to be briefed on what to expect for the soup kitchen on Christmas eve.
posted by Damiel | 11:29 PM
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