“T’was in the darkest depths of Mordor
I met a girl so fair,
But Gollum, and the Evil One
Crept up and slipped away with her…”
My dehydrated brain is slowly trying to painstakingly crawl out of my deserted desert skull, so I’ll make this quick before I just end up rambling and talking about nothing in particular and not making sense and repeating myself and rambling on about stuff that doesn’t make sense and I’ll just end up rambling. About stuff.
Here goes.
Took two days off *cough, cough* sick this week. Two brilliant days, when summer decided to come to NZ early.
I spent them outside filming that training video about watching paint dry for a maintenance company.
It was actually a lot of fun.
We had to do a billion takes though, because someone kept laughing and ruining the shots.
Me.
But can you blame me when someone is, unknowingly, delivering great double-entendre laden lines such as these:
“You’ve got to force it deep into the crack and leave it proud … because sometimes it can shrink, so I really *grunt*… really … want to force it right in there…”
“He’s really going hard in there now…he’s left the filler nice and proud…”
“Now we need to wash the sash to ensure all the stripper residue is removed…”
Perhaps They were right when They said watching too much porn would eventually warp my fragile little mind…
But then, They also said I’d go blind.
I did manage to get away to the pub for the first time in aaaaggggeess today. I went with another fellow cyclist co-worker. We couldn’t find a sucker friend with a car to take us to the pub during lunchtime, so we were forced to get on our pushbikes and go in our work clothes.
We looked like fucking Mormons.
I guess we should have left the Bibles at work…
I mentioned the other day that I had managed to get myself hopped-up on caffeine and chocolate bars before going in to a marketing meeting where I was required to be “sensible”.All went well until the topic somehow turned to the subject of marijuana. Something about there being more cases of lung cancer among the smokers of the Marley Weed. Someone turned to me and said “that’s cos they don’t use a filter when smoking a joint, isn’t it D-Man?”.
WTF?!
What I should have said, whilst turning to every person present and eyeballing them in an accusatory way, was that I was more than willing to piss in a drug test cup, so long as everyone else in the room did likewise.
But what did I instead say?
“Well .., it’s funny you should mention that, cos … with a few minor alterations … our product would actually make a Kick-Ass bong…”
That’s why I don’t get invited to too many “sensible” meetings.
D-Man: 5 days without a wrist watch.
Look at me all Living Life On The Edge.
I think I’m getting a nose bleed.
