There’s only a week left until I finish my current job. One of the girls who sits in my cubicle pod at work wanted to organise for us all to go to the pub next Friday for a farewell piss-up, but everyone’s lunches are on at different times. So now one of the women are proposing that we have a “Mad Hatter Morning Tea”. I’m really not too sure what the hell a Mad Hatter Morning Tea really is, but I have a feeling I’d have to wear novelty headwear. I’m not too sure about the whole thing.
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We were watching Jerry Springer (again) at lunch…
Screaming trailer trash woman on TV: That’s why you should ALLLLLWAYS practice safe sex, slut-bitch-ho! (waves head and hands around to emphasise)
The Angry Brit: Practice safe sex? I practiced sex for the first eighteen years of my life. I’d prefer to do it for real.
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Jolly Man, who sits on my left, is starting to eat lots of corn chips. He eats them at all hours – even as early as 9am. The thing is, I reckon Doritos Corn Chips smell like feet. I keep telling him they smell like feet but he won’t listen.
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We were talking about DVD players:
Me: I guess everyone will get DVD sooner or later.
The Angry Brit: Not me.
Me: Why not?
The Angry Brit: I’ve had an injection so I can’t catch DVD.
There’s a man at work who is really tall and has a long neck. He also has a little tuft of hair on the top of his head. I realised today he looks like a walking sausage balloon.
We’re getting really, really bored at work. It’s getting to the point where we have to wait up to 30 minutes in between phone calls. In an attempt to curb boredom, I asked the others:
Me: Does anyone have a deck of cards?
Jolly Man: No, but hang on, I’ve got a roulette wheel in my drawer.
Ms. B and The Angry Brit: (guffaws of laughter at my expense)
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I saw an old friend of mine today from my past. I used to do community radio, and let me tell you – a community radio station is a great place to meet strange people. I used to hang around with this guy Steve, whose favourite hobby was organising protests at Deakin University in Geelong. Steve lived by the university student philosophy that anything in the modern world can be improved with beer. Eg: Protest – moderate success. Protest with free beer – big success! A night out – moderate chances of him scoring a root. A night out and beer – big chances of him scoring a root! A bong – moderately fun. A beer bong… etc etc etc. (No, I don’t smoke that stuff (um, anymore… *cough*) but Steve had a bad habit of doing so).
Steve also used to violently insist that we spell his name Stephe. He decided he’d start spelling his name like this one day out of the blue. He also had this annoying habit of calling people Bla instead of Bro. I think he picked that up in New Zealand. If there’s one thing that TRULY shits me, it’s people calling me Bla.
Stephe/Steve also had a collection of purple milk crates at the flat where he and his girlfriend lived. They used them for footrests and stuff, but I couldn’t figure out how you could use up so many purple milk crates. I remember asking his girlfriend once at the time:
Me: Why do you have so many purple milk crates?
Spaced out girlfriend: We were walking down the street, and saw them sitting there, and we thought… ‘Wow – I’ve never seen a PURPLE milk crate before.’
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The AFL footy season has begun, and with it, my mum’s screaming at the TV. My mum doesn’t watch a great deal of TV, but when she does you know about it. She has a habit of screaming wildly at the television – she just gets over-involved. She used to scream at the TV when Gladiators was on (she was a large fan), but nowadays she just screams at Essendon AFL matches and the TV show The Mole (which, incidentally, is one of my fave shows nowadays, but I can contain myself a bit better than her).
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Had a fly-open day yesterday. Females don’t know how lucky they are – they never have fly-open days. I’m sure guys will know what I’m talking about – some days, no matter how many times you check, you feel like your fly is open.
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I’m going to a party tonight that’s being organised by a guy who looks strangely like Adam. Same build, same looks, and everything. I was telling Adam about the Adam lookalike…
Me: He looks exactly like you. It’s kind of eerie.
Adam: He looks like me? Well, he must be a pretty cool guy then.
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I’m sure I will be able to get through a journal entry without mentioning Maccas one day soon, but I was reading McDonalds are planning to introduce new ‘healthier’ items to their menu in Australia, just as they’ve done in the US. Things like McSalad Rolls and things. I personally think they should bring out McTofu. (Think about it! They could cut it into shapes like Ronald McDonald’s head and stuff).
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I was sitting on the giant comfy couch in the tea room today with Ms. J. She was sitting there with a Salada talking to someone, and she would bring the Salada biscuit closer and closer to her mouth, then she’d almost take a bite… then she’d comment on whatever the person was saying. Then she’d put the Salada far away from her mouth again, and slowly put it closer and closer to her mouth… then just as she was about to take a bite, she’d say something and repeat the process. It got to the point where it was infuriating me that much I shoved it in her mouth.
I’ve noticed that whenever someone sits on the comfy couch in the tea room they start yawning and feel sleepy. It’s the kind of effect this couch has on you.
Me: This couch just makes you so tired.
Ms. J: It’s because it’s so big. It’s enormous.
Me: It’s a bit of a bachelor’s couch.
Ms. J: Yeah, an IVF couch.
Me: What?
Ms. J: You know, an IVF couch. You could get pregnant off it.