I walk through the door and eyes bore in to my soul.
Why do you look at me with such distaste?
I think you're going to be sick.
I'm late again aren't I?
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
Monday, 12 September 2011
Remember how sometimes I used to make you cookies? You used to beg me to make them and always said that I made the best cookies in the entire world and that they were even better than Mrs. Higgins cookies... They were Mrs. Higgins cookies. You buy frozen dough at the supermarket and bake them for about fifteen minutes.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Girl vs. Boss | Let the games begin.
BOSS: Hey, do you like Kei$ha?
GIRL: Not particularly; why’s that?
BOSS: No real reason.
*two hours later*
BOSS: I bought us a little treat when I went out for lunch.
GIRL: Ooooh! I love treats! What is it?!
*boss turns up volume on his computer speakers*
GIRL: Kei$ha? THAT is your treat?!
BOSS: Yip! When you said you didn’t really like her, I picked up some potential aggravation in your tone of voice. Now that I’ve bought her album and I have total control over the volume, the rest of my plan should come together quite nicely.
GIRL: Your plan?
BOSS: Well you know, I just thought we could start some sort of office war or something? You vs. Me. That kind of thing...
GIRL: Huh?
BOSS: Well we’re accountants and its winter, so we have numbers AND the cold bringing us down right now. I thought this might brighten things up a bit, you know... you and me constantly planning revenge and all that...
GIRL: It didn’t occur to you that whiskey would fix both those problems?
BOSS: I didn’t think of that. Maybe next year?
*silence*
BOSS: It’s your turn by the way.
GIRL: What for?
BOSS: Were you not listening?! It’s your turn to plot against me. You get it? And then once you’ve done that and gotten me back for the Kei$ha thing, it’s my turn again. Great, right?
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Girl & Boss (again)
BOSS: Why are you so chipper and flighty today?
GIRL (said as fast as humanly possible): I-don’t-know-why-really. I-just-have-so-much-energy-today! I’m-totally-frittering-right-now!
BOSS: Child.
GIRL: Child?! Hmpfff
*5 minutes later*
BOSS: You’re still all over the place! It’s like a hurricane every time you speak or move! Seriously... what is going on?
GIRL: Nothing-I-just-have-lot’s-of-energy-today-and-tomorrow-I’m-playing-indoor-soccer-all-day-and-tonight-my-brother-is-coming-to-see-me-and-I’ve-just-had-such-a-great-week-haven’t-you-too?
BOSS: You need to-
GIRL: So-yeah-I-just-feel-really-edgy-today-it’s-great-and-I-just-feel-like-work-has-been-really-good-this-week-and-I-got-lots-done-and-
BOSS: Shut up!
*silence*
GIRL: Hey, what do you think about...
BOSS: You can’t do it can you?
GIRL: Probably-not-definitely-not-today!
BOSS: Take one of these.
*hands girl half of a suspicious-looking pill*
GIRL: What-is-this?!
BOSS: A natural relaxant, read the bottle.
*girl reads bottle*
*gulp*
*twenty minutes later*
GIRL: ...and-then-on-Saturday-night-I-might-go-nd-see-my-aunty-and-I-will-take-my-brother-and-they-got-a-new-puppy-so-we-will-see-the-puppy-too-and-I-read-this-thing-on-the-internet-about-formaldehyde-and-it-didn’t-say-anything-about-going-blind-like-you-said-and-I-heard-this-song-last-night-and-it-was-awesome-i’ll-send-you-the-link-you-will-
BOSS- Did that pill seriously do nothing for you?!
GIRL: Nope!
BOSS: That’s insane! I fall asleep on a half dose! That’s what I gave you, right? Half?
GIRL: Yip!
*boss picks up keys and phone*
BOSS: See you on Monday, I can’t handle this.
GIRL: Oops :/
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Python-God-Man
People talk about their "good books". Teachers refer to students being in their "good-books" or their "bad-books". Parents talk about their children in the same way, and friends talk about their friends in this way too.
Well I only have one book. It's a pretty cool book too. Like most people, the book exists in my mind; it isn't a physical object. My book is probably very different to yours tho. Because these "books" are in our minds we can let our imaginations go crazy and make them anything we want! Maybe your book is a distinguished-looking, leather-bound edition, or maybe you cut a whole lot of letters out of an old magazine and pasted them on the front of your book and then stuck duraseal on top and now it's all kinda damp looking underneath because you didn't let the glue dry properly first. It could even just be a standard Warwick 1B5 exercise book. I don't know what yours is, but let me tell you, mine is amazing. Way cooler than yours.
My book is green; the perfect shade of green.When I am thinking about a friend and wondering what "class" they fit into, I say (in my head), "Good-book, does **** deserve a star?" Then cool stuff starts to happen.
First of all I begin to hear a hissing sound. Then some more. And more and more and more until hisses are resounding in my head. Slowly my book begins to morph into a man. But this isn't just any man; he is Python-God-Man. When he pops out I always feel the need to sing a song and then just stare at him in wonder while angels dance around his head singing "hallelujah", as their halo's cast him in the most glorious light you have ever seen. And he really is a god. He's the most perfect man you have ever seen. He has perfect hair too; short, but not too short, but not too long either, just perfect. And it's brown, not too dark, and not too light; it's perfect-brown. And he's wearing jeans, which, as you can expect, are perfect; they're so close to being black, but they aren't, they're just the perfect shade of dark indigo. His skin is the perfect shade too, and he has the most irresistible smile you have ever seen. He's a God. A true God.On the occasions when he pops out of the book my heart always skips a few beats, and I know if you saw me, my eyes would be glazed over and I would have a very vacant look on my face. But I'd be smiling; a guilty-little-pleasure smile.
Once I have managed to control myself after the initial shock of seeing the most perfect man in the whole wide world in my head, more crazy stuff starts to happen. It relates back to that hissing noise. Suddenly severally silky snakes burst out of his perfect abdomen. They are pythons. You see, Python-God-Man can not speak;
I still can't decide if this is a flaw or not. Maybe the perfect man is silent, which would then allow me to ramble on to my hearts content? I think I would enjoy that. Anyway, he communicates to me through his pythons. When I ask him about a friends current rating or class, or when I ask him if they deserve a gold star or not, the pythons burst from him holding shiny, silver, zippo lighters, and they soar accross the sky and form letters with their flames, that spell words. These words are answers.I know in my heart that when Python-God-Man has spoken, the truth has been revealed. I would never even dream of questioning his judgement; surely such a perfect being could't make a single mistake? After he has revealed the answer I usually spend some more time just staring at him. I could do that all day; and I do, frequently. When I'm having a bad day, I know that all I need to do is call on him. He fixes everything. If I was to say I am "in love" with anyone, I would probably name him. I don't love easily, so that's a pretty big call.
So, there you have it, I told you my book was way cooler than yours.
Well I only have one book. It's a pretty cool book too. Like most people, the book exists in my mind; it isn't a physical object. My book is probably very different to yours tho. Because these "books" are in our minds we can let our imaginations go crazy and make them anything we want! Maybe your book is a distinguished-looking, leather-bound edition, or maybe you cut a whole lot of letters out of an old magazine and pasted them on the front of your book and then stuck duraseal on top and now it's all kinda damp looking underneath because you didn't let the glue dry properly first. It could even just be a standard Warwick 1B5 exercise book. I don't know what yours is, but let me tell you, mine is amazing. Way cooler than yours.
My book is green; the perfect shade of green.When I am thinking about a friend and wondering what "class" they fit into, I say (in my head), "Good-book, does **** deserve a star?" Then cool stuff starts to happen.
First of all I begin to hear a hissing sound. Then some more. And more and more and more until hisses are resounding in my head. Slowly my book begins to morph into a man. But this isn't just any man; he is Python-God-Man. When he pops out I always feel the need to sing a song and then just stare at him in wonder while angels dance around his head singing "hallelujah", as their halo's cast him in the most glorious light you have ever seen. And he really is a god. He's the most perfect man you have ever seen. He has perfect hair too; short, but not too short, but not too long either, just perfect. And it's brown, not too dark, and not too light; it's perfect-brown. And he's wearing jeans, which, as you can expect, are perfect; they're so close to being black, but they aren't, they're just the perfect shade of dark indigo. His skin is the perfect shade too, and he has the most irresistible smile you have ever seen. He's a God. A true God.On the occasions when he pops out of the book my heart always skips a few beats, and I know if you saw me, my eyes would be glazed over and I would have a very vacant look on my face. But I'd be smiling; a guilty-little-pleasure smile.
Once I have managed to control myself after the initial shock of seeing the most perfect man in the whole wide world in my head, more crazy stuff starts to happen. It relates back to that hissing noise. Suddenly severally silky snakes burst out of his perfect abdomen. They are pythons. You see, Python-God-Man can not speak;
I still can't decide if this is a flaw or not. Maybe the perfect man is silent, which would then allow me to ramble on to my hearts content? I think I would enjoy that. Anyway, he communicates to me through his pythons. When I ask him about a friends current rating or class, or when I ask him if they deserve a gold star or not, the pythons burst from him holding shiny, silver, zippo lighters, and they soar accross the sky and form letters with their flames, that spell words. These words are answers.I know in my heart that when Python-God-Man has spoken, the truth has been revealed. I would never even dream of questioning his judgement; surely such a perfect being could't make a single mistake? After he has revealed the answer I usually spend some more time just staring at him. I could do that all day; and I do, frequently. When I'm having a bad day, I know that all I need to do is call on him. He fixes everything. If I was to say I am "in love" with anyone, I would probably name him. I don't love easily, so that's a pretty big call.
So, there you have it, I told you my book was way cooler than yours.
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Sunday, 1 May 2011
Bad Weekend
Right now I'm in a slightly bad mood, so I'm going to talk about my weekend, but only the bad things. I know that's not fair, because parts of my weekend were great, but I'm going to anyway, because I can.
-I was sick on Thursday night / Friday (tummy bug)
-A friend attempted to run into a very fast car (bad injuries and mental state)
-A fire started at a bar I was at (evacuation)
-My handbag got stolen including my licence (identity theft and all-round pain in the butt)
-Someone stood on one of my toes really hard (broken)
-I shared my tiny bed three nights in a row (bad sleep) *ps. just friends only, I'm not The Scandal*
-I had a car crash this morning (broken car)
-My laptop got scratched from flying through my car during the crash (lack of aesthetics)
RESULT: My mental state is starting to wear thin.
-I was sick on Thursday night / Friday (tummy bug)
-A friend attempted to run into a very fast car (bad injuries and mental state)
-A fire started at a bar I was at (evacuation)
-My handbag got stolen including my licence (identity theft and all-round pain in the butt)
-Someone stood on one of my toes really hard (broken)
-I shared my tiny bed three nights in a row (bad sleep) *ps. just friends only, I'm not The Scandal*
-I had a car crash this morning (broken car)
-My laptop got scratched from flying through my car during the crash (lack of aesthetics)
RESULT: My mental state is starting to wear thin.
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