"I licked all the custard out of his doughnut, I put his chocolate eclair in my mouth and sucked," - me and Flatmate A discussing our pudding last night.
Since I last strolled through the Avenue and left some literary litter, I have done the following:gone to work
taken my brother through a Final Cut Pro weekend course
watched DVDs in bed (Malcom in the Middle, series one - comfortingly dysfunctional)
done my laundry
scanned lots of photos
not slept enough.
Fascinating, oui? Non? No, it wasn't for me either.
In other news, I have come to the conclusion that I am not paid enough and that my job title is woefully incorrect: my title should be something along the lines of: "The Only One Who Knows How Anything Works and Does Weekends Out of The Whole Lot of You, You Lazy Clueless Bastards." Cannot currently decide between waiting for my next appraisal to raise these issues or to run naked through the office with "Gimme a Raise!" painted across my arse in Daddies sauce (of which we have a jar, sitting reeking in our laughable "kitchen" area.) Hmmm. I think making my point without any condiments will serve my purpose better. Or not - suggestions welcome, to the usual place, Ithankyew.
In other news, I'm looking to start some kind of sport or activity in the spring - should I go for fencing or for contemporary dance? Pilates or tae kwan do? Spinning or... tap dance? African drumming? Synchronised swimming? Extreme juggling/ironing/letching after floppy-haired public schoolboys? I dunno...
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