bulk :: 15st 6
days without blogging :: 6 (Aaaaaaaaaarrrrgggghhh! If it reaches a whole week without a decent excuse, it dies, like a Tamagotchi.)
Peckham hours remaining :: 12
boxes surrounding me :: 15 (all filled with books)
imminent arrivals :: 1
pipes down :: 3
fresh starts :: 4
Dead blog! Dead blog!
Blimey. Sorry about that. Is it already a week? I can barely believe it. Time flies when you’re working for the government. Ssshhh! Keep Mum. She’s not so dumb. Not much longer now though. In fact, the good news is, I’ve only got one more week doing this cock and bullshit, then I’ve got a much more interesting job lined up. A writing job. This is great news. This pleases me more than a very friendly woman with five eager mouths. I’m cock-a-hoop!
In other news, life has taken a number of exceedingly interesting turns over the last few weeks. Quite incredible things are, have been and will be afoot, and life, my faithful friend, is full of surprises. In fact, if I were to ever tell you exactly how my life has changed just recently, and in exactly how many ways (oh so many), you would probably cough up a kidney in the process of trying to actually comprehend it all. You might very well refract internally just trying to get your head round it. Then I’d have to rush you to hospital and sit by your bed all night, holding on to your hand and mopping your brow until you slipped into eternal oblivion at the crack of dawn. Incidental bystanders would stand by incidentally, arms folded, shaking their heads in disbelief as I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, enough tears to drown a unicorn in a silver bucket.
I’ll tell you about it on Monday, if you’re around. In the meantime, Keith has just pierced the M25 and I have to prepare the lubricants for the evening’s entertainment. He’s on his way down to help me celebrate this monumental weekend and shift my capacious ass out of Peckham with a bang.
That all sounds slightly gay, doesn't it. Well, when the cat's away, the mouse's homosexual tendencies will bubble to the surface like tiny cocks with teeth. No, I'm just kidding. But now I must go. For this is my last night. And I intend to have fun.
Come back on Monday. It’ll be lovely.
And have a good weekend yourself.
I kiss your face.
Friday, 12 December 2008
Feedback Friday :: Goodbye Peckham and All This Cock and Bullshit, Hello Hysteria and Cock A Happy Hoop!
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6 comments:
"bubble to the surface like tiny cocks with teeth?"
surface of what? do i want to know? have you pre-lubricated?
i'll check in monday... don't like the idea of toothy little cocks... reminds me of that thing from "Alien".
Toothy cocks, they can strip a cow down to its bones in umder a minute. Shudder.
Good luck with the move, sausage.
Tease...
Happy Birthday Stan :)
And congrats on the writing job!
:)
Mrs. Hall
Gah. I just clicked on that link in Larry's comment. I feel ill now, what made me do that.
I've totally forgotten what I was actually going to say now because my brain is full of little ratty looking penises.
Good luck with the move, I look forward to hearing your news.
I'm not letting you anywhere near my face after all that talk of nibbling willies. I may like pain, but I'm not stupid.
How did the move go? I've spent the day moving from one side of the office to the other, which has been remarkably satisfying.
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