Work was okay, today. I put my head down - no, not my bum up - and worked all day.
"Yes, yes, my Xmas was good. Too short, it went so fast. Yes, yes."
I judiciously avoided the fat loser and the anorexic bitch. They didn't asked me how my holidays were, so the day was good.
The anorexic bitch's hip bones are more prominent than ever before, so organ failure can't be too far away. Here's hoping.
I heard the fat loser does nappy role play. Sadly, I can picture him with a dummy in his gob.
I saw the cyborg queen in the distance, looking busy, hurried, butch. I told Beck how when the cyborg queen used to stand at her desk so often asking her questions, that she looked down Beck's shirt. Beck laughed.
"For the million she's on a year, I may have just opened another button, if you'd told me."
The drunk lush in charge of HR asked me in her too-many-fags voice how I was, when I was up there checking contracts. I don't know, maybe it's me, but she always sounds like said-the-spider-to-the-fly.
I wanted to say, get fucked, but I just smiled sweetly instead as I didn't stop walking.
I heard she fucks the C.E.O. I've often wondered how she kept her job.
And suddenly it was 17.30. Woo Hoo.
I didn't call my recruitment agent.
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