During the morning, I met a member of the marketing team, with a new company there is always some new face the greet you. She asked which department I was working for, assuming it was HR.
Cathy said that I was working for both departments.
The marketing girl looked taken back a little. "Oh," she said. She raised her eyebrows and looked at me as a new breed.
I put my arms out to my side and pretended I was being pulled by each hand. And smiled. The marketing girl laughed.
Cathy said, “That is why he fits in.”
The marketing girl said, "Well, it is nice to meet me."
I thought I’d better agree, despite not really giving a shit. But, pay me and I smile.
Buddy was excited to see me after work, which isn’t always promised. He did his excited bulldog dance, kind of bouncing in the spot, before he bounced inside with me. Tonight wasn’t one of those nights where he looks up from his bed with one eye, his expression saying, Oh, you are home. I am very comfortable here. Another look. Whatever.
He came upstairs with me as I got changed. He ran in and was straight up onto the bed and straight into his reclining across the bed on his back relaxed pose. Of course, that did nothing for his restricted breathing. He has a big smile, courtesy to his mouth falling open, sounding like an emphysemic 80 year old.
Guido came over to get the possum trap. He messaged me in the afternoon. The possum trap, it could be slang for anything. Ha, ha. I couldn’t help myself and I messaged back asking him “if he had…”
“Jes chicko.”
Ashamedly now, I was quite excited for the rest of the afternoon. I got money and cigarettes on my way home, see I can be that organised.
Sam didn’t even seem to mind. It’s the one thing I have learnt in life, if you are about to do the thing your baby doesn’t like you doing, you can’t be more up front about it. Out in the open as soon as you get the chance, your honey will most likely fold with a direct hit. I got hardly a peep out of him. That’s what we like.
We walked Buddy to the supermarket, the lazy arse took a crap and then walked another block, and then he lay down and gave the distinct impression that he was done. Sam walked the rest of the way to the supermarket on his own, and Buddy and I waited where Buddy stopped. He wouldn’t go any further in classic bulldog fashion. When Sam came back, Buddy walked for home enthusiastically.
Apparently, A Current Affair is breaking a story about patrons in night clubs lining up to snort drugs in the toilets, like it is something new.
I’ve known people to do drugs in the toilet for the last twenty five years at the clubs I’ve been going to. Why is that a news story?
Is society really that ignorant? I think not. Ratings driven news shows like A Current Affair will, I guess, sensationalise anything.
Not that I go to too many nightclubs any more. So, nothing has changed, I hear, which, in a sense, makes it even more ridiculous.
It was Japanese curry for dinner. I think Japanese Curry means a mountain of rice and thick gravy. And beef and carrots, too. It was tasty.
Cathy said that I was working for both departments.
The marketing girl looked taken back a little. "Oh," she said. She raised her eyebrows and looked at me as a new breed.
I put my arms out to my side and pretended I was being pulled by each hand. And smiled. The marketing girl laughed.
Cathy said, “That is why he fits in.”
The marketing girl said, "Well, it is nice to meet me."
I thought I’d better agree, despite not really giving a shit. But, pay me and I smile.
Buddy was excited to see me after work, which isn’t always promised. He did his excited bulldog dance, kind of bouncing in the spot, before he bounced inside with me. Tonight wasn’t one of those nights where he looks up from his bed with one eye, his expression saying, Oh, you are home. I am very comfortable here. Another look. Whatever.
He came upstairs with me as I got changed. He ran in and was straight up onto the bed and straight into his reclining across the bed on his back relaxed pose. Of course, that did nothing for his restricted breathing. He has a big smile, courtesy to his mouth falling open, sounding like an emphysemic 80 year old.
Guido came over to get the possum trap. He messaged me in the afternoon. The possum trap, it could be slang for anything. Ha, ha. I couldn’t help myself and I messaged back asking him “if he had…”
“Jes chicko.”
Ashamedly now, I was quite excited for the rest of the afternoon. I got money and cigarettes on my way home, see I can be that organised.
Sam didn’t even seem to mind. It’s the one thing I have learnt in life, if you are about to do the thing your baby doesn’t like you doing, you can’t be more up front about it. Out in the open as soon as you get the chance, your honey will most likely fold with a direct hit. I got hardly a peep out of him. That’s what we like.
We walked Buddy to the supermarket, the lazy arse took a crap and then walked another block, and then he lay down and gave the distinct impression that he was done. Sam walked the rest of the way to the supermarket on his own, and Buddy and I waited where Buddy stopped. He wouldn’t go any further in classic bulldog fashion. When Sam came back, Buddy walked for home enthusiastically.
Apparently, A Current Affair is breaking a story about patrons in night clubs lining up to snort drugs in the toilets, like it is something new.
I’ve known people to do drugs in the toilet for the last twenty five years at the clubs I’ve been going to. Why is that a news story?
Is society really that ignorant? I think not. Ratings driven news shows like A Current Affair will, I guess, sensationalise anything.
Not that I go to too many nightclubs any more. So, nothing has changed, I hear, which, in a sense, makes it even more ridiculous.
It was Japanese curry for dinner. I think Japanese Curry means a mountain of rice and thick gravy. And beef and carrots, too. It was tasty.
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