Thursday, April 29, 2004
Now let this be a lesson to ya
Now I don't tend to advise other people on what's right and what's wrong, in fact, I think people should do as they please regarded they ain't out to cause someonelse trouble. However, I believe I have some words of wisdom for my fellow man, or those working for the Man anyway.
Foresight is a wonderful thing and I'm presently endowed with some of it so here's my advice, never go partying on a Monday night; it serves only to make the week horrifically and unbareably long, and having a boss who is an arsehole doesn't help either (that's right dickhead, yeah you, the guy sitting at the desk next to me, and you're going bald)
So anyways an eccentric associate of mine held a rather excellent party on Monday night - it was going to be on Saturday night but ANZAC Day trading laws meant most bars couldn't sell liquor after midnight and a party ain't a party without liqour - there were several djs and truck-loads of gorgeous honeys.
We started on the beers about 7pm and one thing led to another and before I knew it it was a quarter to five in the morning. My alarm went off but I must have turned it off and gone back to sleep and woke out of habit with four minutes to get to work.
So anyways I rock up to work roughly on time at about 8am, my eyes still the size of small moons and bloodshot to hell, and I had managed to cultivate that unique aroma of someone whose bodily fluids are still predominantly alcohol-based.
As I'm walking in to the office through the carpark a colleague came up behind in her car and blasts the horn as a joke, and it would have been as mildly-amusing as anyone tooting their horn at you can be had its piercing noise not penetrated every inch of my tender and vulnerable brain like the shrapnel from a landmine tearing into the flesh of an unsuspecting soldier.
So anyways I makes my way to my desk and am putting 120% of my energies into staying upright and browsing the internet in an attempt to stay conscious when the system crashes so everyone retires to the office room for a chat.
And so began Tuesday morning, the beginning of another shit week of working for a shithead boss and being paid shit money. Roll on Friday.
And thats about all I've got to say about that.
Foresight is a wonderful thing and I'm presently endowed with some of it so here's my advice, never go partying on a Monday night; it serves only to make the week horrifically and unbareably long, and having a boss who is an arsehole doesn't help either (that's right dickhead, yeah you, the guy sitting at the desk next to me, and you're going bald)
So anyways an eccentric associate of mine held a rather excellent party on Monday night - it was going to be on Saturday night but ANZAC Day trading laws meant most bars couldn't sell liquor after midnight and a party ain't a party without liqour - there were several djs and truck-loads of gorgeous honeys.
We started on the beers about 7pm and one thing led to another and before I knew it it was a quarter to five in the morning. My alarm went off but I must have turned it off and gone back to sleep and woke out of habit with four minutes to get to work.
So anyways I rock up to work roughly on time at about 8am, my eyes still the size of small moons and bloodshot to hell, and I had managed to cultivate that unique aroma of someone whose bodily fluids are still predominantly alcohol-based.
As I'm walking in to the office through the carpark a colleague came up behind in her car and blasts the horn as a joke, and it would have been as mildly-amusing as anyone tooting their horn at you can be had its piercing noise not penetrated every inch of my tender and vulnerable brain like the shrapnel from a landmine tearing into the flesh of an unsuspecting soldier.
So anyways I makes my way to my desk and am putting 120% of my energies into staying upright and browsing the internet in an attempt to stay conscious when the system crashes so everyone retires to the office room for a chat.
And so began Tuesday morning, the beginning of another shit week of working for a shithead boss and being paid shit money. Roll on Friday.
And thats about all I've got to say about that.
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