Start the week
I thought i'd keep things quiet about friday night's shenanigans as i wouldn't like my colleagues to think that i had a life outside of work - heavens forbid ;@)
All was fine and hunky dory until about midday when Idiotboy started pestering me about what happened afterwards.
I do tend to be a bit economical with my explications at the best of times with him and today i just thought that the less he needed to know the better ...
All was going swimmingly well until one of the guys passed us by saying "whouaaaaar, wor about freedah neet than ? didja ger 'ome awright on sati'di marnin' lake ?!!" *which, once translated to normal english, comes out as "We had a mighty fine time on friday, did you happen to make it home ok ?" *
He related our evening out to all and anyone within earshot, gory details included .. with special attention paid to his prowess at drinking and falling over in an unsightly heap ... highly amusing for everyone (he is a good story teller) except for The idiot one who spent the rest of the day walking around with a petted lip "nobody asked me out" he kept muttering.
I couldn't help but thinking of only fools and horses "he who dares wins, Rodders" as Delboy used to say.
A part from that, the Christmas respite is well and truly over.
I've spent all day having my neurones frazzled by telephone radiowaves, fingers being ground down to bloddy stubs from incessant typing and probably a peptic ulcer, hair loss and suppurating puss laden zits forming from aggregated stress.
(some of the above isn't true)
Tomorrow, i'm out in the morning but i must get back to the office for the after noon.
Wednesday i'm in all day, but we're setting up another wine tasting evening for the 23rd so i won't get any work done.
On Thursday i have to go to the start of the annual AGM which is taking place at Opéra - i've managed to get out of half of the first day, but i'm going to be stuck there for all day Friday and Saturday morning *sob sob sniff sniff*
Mrs Bosswoman, who's still getting over the loss of her cat, is off on holiday at the end of the month and has asked me to cat-sit her remaining cat.
All was fine and hunky dory until about midday when Idiotboy started pestering me about what happened afterwards.
I do tend to be a bit economical with my explications at the best of times with him and today i just thought that the less he needed to know the better ...
All was going swimmingly well until one of the guys passed us by saying "whouaaaaar, wor about freedah neet than ? didja ger 'ome awright on sati'di marnin' lake ?!!" *which, once translated to normal english, comes out as "We had a mighty fine time on friday, did you happen to make it home ok ?" *
He related our evening out to all and anyone within earshot, gory details included .. with special attention paid to his prowess at drinking and falling over in an unsightly heap ... highly amusing for everyone (he is a good story teller) except for The idiot one who spent the rest of the day walking around with a petted lip "nobody asked me out" he kept muttering.
I couldn't help but thinking of only fools and horses "he who dares wins, Rodders" as Delboy used to say.
A part from that, the Christmas respite is well and truly over.
I've spent all day having my neurones frazzled by telephone radiowaves, fingers being ground down to bloddy stubs from incessant typing and probably a peptic ulcer, hair loss and suppurating puss laden zits forming from aggregated stress.
(some of the above isn't true)
Tomorrow, i'm out in the morning but i must get back to the office for the after noon.
Wednesday i'm in all day, but we're setting up another wine tasting evening for the 23rd so i won't get any work done.
On Thursday i have to go to the start of the annual AGM which is taking place at Opéra - i've managed to get out of half of the first day, but i'm going to be stuck there for all day Friday and Saturday morning *sob sob sniff sniff*
Mrs Bosswoman, who's still getting over the loss of her cat, is off on holiday at the end of the month and has asked me to cat-sit her remaining cat.
posted by Damiel | 9:39 PM
2 Comments:
‘Suppurating puss laden zits’ remind me of this movie, How To Get Ahead In Advertising, with Richard Grant, where a gigantic boil comes out of his neck and starts speaking to him and taking over his life.
Hope it doesn’t happen to you!
(or was it the untrue part?)
Hahahaha ... only the first two parts were true ... i've never seen that movie - it's a lacune in my cinemographic knowledge, methinks
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