Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Thursday, May 01, 2008


Today, I have caused chaos at my place of work and it has been brilliant. And simply by switching the labels on the full cream and the skimmed milk jugs.

Oh you should see it! Legions of alice-band wearing women running around like spooked deer in there, spluttering earl grey tea through their fingers in abject horror. The cries of "My thighs! My thighs!" and hurried dialed calls to personal trainers drowned out the girls on their hands and knees, hacking and coughing their guts up and moaning that they're going to be on the stairmaster for the next five years. Such things make me proud.

Idle thumbs are the devil's playground, and mine are pretty damn bored at the minute. I should be enjoying what I'm doing... but I'm not. And while I'm far away from the drudgery of spreadsheets and being called into Finance to explain my extravagant business lunches and trying to write off trips to Pleasuredrome as "essential health incidents", the magic just isn't with me. Perhaps its merely familiarity breeding contempt - this is the longest I've been at any one place in about 5 years. To give you a context, I change my men as often as I change my underwear. And I don't wear underwear.

And yet if you'd told me thirty years ago I'd be working in one of the hallowed halls of this British institution, I'd have gurgled and looked glassy eyed at you. Mostly because I was only three years old and had some learning difficulties after my mother let me lick a lot of garage doors while she was flicking through her Bella. But if you'd told me ten years ago I'd be working in one of the hallowed halls of this British institution... I'd have gurgled and looked glassy eyed at you because I spent the majority of my twenties drunk under a bridge in Bethnal Green with my old friend Mr Turps.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that while it should be an honour to work here, the magic seems to have been momentarily taken from me - rather like every-other Madonna album. I don't want you to feel sorry for me (I'm doing enough of that myself) and I'm sure its a momentary lapse, but as I look around me at the moment, I'm stuck in a office when I really fancy sitting about with an iced tea and a Maeve Binchy.

I have no idea what a Maeve Binchy is, but all the girls like them in the office so its either ice cream, chocolate, chocolate ice cream or a sex toy.


Stephen said...

Qenny said...

Oh, you naughty minx!

But someone should explain to those upper-middle heifers that one really ought not put milk in Earl Grey. Bergamot and cow tit juice - yuck!

CyberPete said...

...and again Qenny is absolutely right!

The new Madonna album is really awful and uninspired right?

Or is it just me thinking that?

Tim said...

You and me both. And I'm not referring to Maeve Binchy or lurking under bridges.

joe*to*hell said...

oh come now! half of the new madonna record is good. as for maeve, thats above my comprehension

AndyT13 said...

Oh poo. Stephen beat me to it. LOL

Many beefy men I recently photographed at the body building competition HERE:

Don't say I don't love you. :-)

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