My Bf Brings All The Girls To The Yard...

Not going to lie... I'm a little concerned.

Dirtiest Look.

Yes. I am buying two 79c 600ml water bottles.

Yes. I am buying four 300ml Smirnoff Double Blacks.

The look wasn't necessary Mr Register Man. You know what I'm doing, I know what I'm doing.

Let's just smile and move along and we can all get through this a lot faster.

No Your Mum's An Oxymoron.

I have a general distaste for oxymorons.

The latest one that is bothering me is 'freezer burn', something that has been annoying me at work a lot lately. But then I realise... Well oxymorons just fucking follow me everywhere don't they?

For example:
I can picture my mate The Cunt, it's a pretty ugly sight. I see him half naked, sipping non-alcoholic beer from his plastic glass.  Then from time-to-time he nibbles on his cold hotdog, which is smothered in hot chilli sauce.  For pudding he will be having freezer burnt, white chocolate, ice cream, with a plain fudge topping. The freezer burn which was caused by liquid gas that also cooked my ceviche jumbo shrimp, causing me to stress like an anxious patient.

But I suppose I'll be calmely excited next week when we have our work party. This is a new tradition and we will be spending a whole half day on the top floor of his low-rise apartment. Personally, as a group we're hoping to watch the live recording of the paid volunteers turning green oranges into non-stick glue via his wireless cable tv.

You see my point yeah?

Sometimes life's a comedian with no sense of humour.

When I Think About You I Touch Myself...

Neighbour at work strikes again:

"Do you know why I love touching myself? It's sex with someone I love that doesn't expect breakfast."

Me : "You just sit at work all day thinking about masturbation, don't you?"

" - long pause - Thinking about it? ... Yeah sure. Thinking."

Ew.

It's Upsetting Really.

You call a girl fat, then wonder why she doesn't see that she's skinny.

You call a boy scrawny, then tease him for going to the gym.

You call someone dumb, when you don't see their point of view.

You tell someone they're an embarrassment, but their personality is adoring.

You tell someone they're offensive when they try to make people smile.

You tell someone they're a hick, a thug, a bitch, a slut.

But never to their face.

And you wonder why people are fucked up?

This Might Sound Awkward...

A girl who works next door to mine comes in for a chin wag a few mornings a week when she sees I'm in the kitchen early.

This morning she provided a rather delightful topic of conversation to start back the work week after the Easter break.

Strolling in and taking a seat on the couch she lets out an intense sigh.

"This might sound awkward, but is there an appropriate way to tell your housemate to put his headphones in 'cos the boyfriend is coming over to... Enthusiastically 'Slam the Ham'?"

Laughed so hard I spat my coffee all over the bar.

Damn You Nescafe.

Alright coffee.

You have approximately 20 minutes to do your job before I have to leave for mine and I am NOT holding this in from Ringwood to Flinders Street.

This is what I call nervous.