Thursday, August 16, 2007

Hot Date

I am taking myself out on a date tonight. I was sitting at work, feeling my brain shrivel up and die bit of grey matter by bit of grey matter, and I thought "I need to do something tonight that is not sitting in front of coronation street eating chocolate."
So I asked me if I would like to go out, and I said yes! I was excited because I thought I might've turned me down, but I seemed quite keen so it was all good. So I'm getting dressed up, and taking me out to a nice bar, and I'm going to buy me a nice glass of red...and, you never know, maybe I'll get lucky and go home with me! Hmm.

Today at work I hit myself in the face with a stick.

I also, now that you've stopped laughing, made friends with Daniel, the enfant terrible of the winery. Example: when he doesn't want to work, he locks himself in the store room and refuses to come out. However, he has become friends with me now. I consider this useful.

Turns out Dad's girlfriend thinks I am 'sweet.' She is obviously deluded- being madly in love with father actually a good indicator of this, now that I think about it- as I am many things, but 'sweet' not one of them.

Oh! Keith wanted to be mentioned in this blog, as apparently he considers himself important enough. (Hey, if Vic features...) Keith and I are like the English Monarchy in that we have a long, confusing and somewhat sordid history and no-one knows exactly what's going to happen to it next (although every man and his dog have a prediction to make).
Keith is also like the English Monarchy in that he is somewhat inbred. Would anyone else like to be featured in my blog?

And now, for the Joke of the Day, today inspired by Andrea (do thank her; the joke was going to be 'Your Mother'):
A woman was caught in a terrorist attack, while she was carrying triplets. Despite the fact that none of the bullets could be recovered, all of the fetuses survived and were born healthy babies- two girls and a boy. One day fourteen years later, one of the two girls came to her mother in tears. "Mum," she said, "I've got a problem." "What's wrong, darling?" the mother asked. "Well, I was going to the toilet...and a bullet came out!" The mother reassured the frightened girl, telling her the story of the terrorist attack. Some weeks later, the second girl came to her mother, again in tears, saying, "Mum...I have a problem." "Honey, what's wrong?" asked the mother. As before, the girl replied, "I was going to the toilet...and a bullet fell out!" Again, the mother told her daughter the story about the terrorist attack and told her not to worry. A week after that, the son came up to the mother, looking very uncomfortable. "Ah, Mum," he said, "I kind of have a problem." "Oh no, don't tell me," she said, "you were going to the toilet and a bullet came out?"
"No..I was jacking off, and I shot the cat."

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