I left work @ 17.06, everyone else had gone, except for Andrew T, as Stella, his wife, was picking him up. Swivel in his chair, smile, chatting. Flash his crotch @ me, like a scene out of Basic Instinct. Ah, the beautiful Andrew T. Casual clothes Friday. How he packs a pair of jeans; I can see his round balls, I can see the shaft of his cock on the bend. He's the only one who's hot arse Rebecca has commented about. I would have liked to be a fly on the bedroom wall when Stella got home recently from an extended trip to Iran, after being away for three months. They really are a beautiful couple, they would have gorgeous sex, they would have beautiful babies.
I was thinking about Andrew penetrating Stella went I went to the porn shop, I couldn't help myself. "Yeah Andrew, fuck me," I could hear her soft voice. I didn't buy anything, just looked @ the pictures.
SMS. 17.27. Oh happy days! – Christian
SMS. 17.29. I am in Victor Harbour with my parents in a grotty hotel that hasn't been updated since the 60’s & quite possibly not cleaned since then either. So what the fuck is this oh happy days bullshit? – Rachel
SMS. 17.32. Victor Harbour? For goodness sake! – Christian
SMS. 17.34. Fuck off! I am stuck here for 3 days. Told Emily 2 fake being sick so we can go home. I am coming home 2 Melb next week – Rachel
SMS. 17.34. You could be doing my work bullshit. At least my day is over, he, he, he – Christian
SMS. 17.35. This is the kinda motel people go 2 commit suicide – Rachel
SMS. 17.36. Lovely! Have fun – Christian
SMS. 17.37. R u free 4 dinner next Thurs? – Rachel
SMS. 17.37. I could be? – Christian
SMS. 17.38. Good keep it free then. God knows I need something 2 look forward 2! – Rachel
SMS. 17.43. (Tom) The blokes in town this arvo… woof! – Christian
The city seems to filled with genetically gifted men, all around me.
From my eerie in the sky. From my belfry on high. From my perch in the clouds. From my platform looking all around. Up high, looking down.
"You've got a good view," the plebs squawk, as they come to bother me. "I know you're busy, but... wow, the view from here is amazing."
I wanted to stick a sign to my door, but Rebecca wouldn't let me.
"Tsunami viewing platform... and yes, we have noticed the view."
But, of course, now I am down, amongst it all. Scurried off to... to... goodness me, that joint is kicking in something fierce.
Whoosh!
Scuttled home... maybe. I have no idea. Actually, I strolled home humming, "Soldier on with Codral, soldier on," with a huge smile. (Ed note – if you don’t know the television ad you won’t get it)
So 2006 huh? Fuck me! The last six years... Ground Hog anyone?
Miss, that sounds like a plan. And Caulfield isn't so far, just the other side of the city, certainly much closer than your parent's house and the wasteland that surrounds it and its.
"Abbotsford, blah, blah, blah – well the nits I like anyway." Nits? I couldn't work this one out? I can usually work out the meaning of most sentences, but not this?
It's been so lovely at work, this week. Well, lovely if one has to be there, natch. No people! No pesky phone calls all day. No cars on the road, no traffic congesting the streets. So many less idiots.
(But, as I told you, hot boys, in shorts, sauntering along in the street.)
Everything in corporate world, unhurried and relaxed... except for one, there always has to be one, dropping stones into our calm ponds, NEW casual who didn't get paid, who has just been tormenting us all about it. Profoundly stupid to antagonise senior staff members when they look into the problem and then graciously say no, with full explanation and reasons. (In the ONLY quiet week we get all year, what's more) And then to mix us all up and start sending emails to people she has just, moments before spoken to, unwittingly, asking it all again. (Not smart, she ain't going far, I can assure you) Giving herself away telling half truths, telling the actual person what he or she has just said... which, you guessed it, we knew that we didn't. Well, not quite as she put it. (Twisted completely in her favour, any thing negative left out) Does she not get that we, actually, know what we are talking about... we are the people who make the decisions... unless she was foolhardy enough to give a partner a call at his house at Portsea. She was the type, everyone of us could pick it. And now when we think of her, we will all naturally think trouble. It's not a smart way to ingratiate yourself to HR devotees; Finance. Silly girl.
However, the cafes are empty, the sun never, seems, to stop shining. Long shadows in the afternoon... cool breeze up Bourke Street.
I went out for a boozy lunch today, but you know, I just don't get it. As what always happens, I got a head ache for the afternoon. Maybe, I just don't drink enough? Although, work is the last place I'd chose to be if I was smashed. No thanks.
The house is full for dinner, Tim and his Friday nights. It's good though, don't get me wrong. And even a choice of menu. Goodness. Why can't I ever get that organised?
Get organised? Oh, I have to so get organised. Get things done, so many things. Wake up, straighten up, clean up, shape up, smarten up. Productivity up. Maybe that could be my New Years resolution. No point going for something too specific.
Wake up, straighten up, clean up, shape up, smarten up... in 2006!
I've got roast lamb and I'm not hungry.
Tim cooked for everyone. Curry or roast lamb.
Tim and Sarah and Lisa went and got a DVD. I chatted to Tom while they were at the shop.
Nicholas and Adam played play station in Tim camp; Nicholas’s room. They came back with horror. I quietly gathered my stuff together and scuttled off to bed. In bed by 9pm.
SMS. 21.43. Thank God 4 alcohol – Rachel
SMS. 21.50. Thank the universe for dope – Christian
Manny called at 10pm horny and wanting sex. I couldn't, but almost, persuaded him to come over.
Mark called late to say he missed me.
No comments:
Post a Comment