Yeah, anyway. It's a Sunday night, 2138 GMT. I, along with millions of others, am dreading going to work tomorrow. Work, work, work. Why do you make me do things against my will huh work?! Who are you and why do y'all get off being the great oppressor? Why can't I do something fun tomorrow? A massive slide? A hot air balloon? Loads and loads of alcoholic drinks in bathtubs? Huh?! NO not for you MMD, it's hey ho hey ho, off to work you (begrudingly) go.
One of the dwarfs on his way to work. Naturally, he's completely hammered in a vain attempt to mask the bone crushing monotony that a work day presents.Aside from these ridiculous thoughts above, I've also been thinking that I should get an ultra manual job in rural USA. y'know. Give me a reason to really relate to this life I've created in my brain that doesn't actually resemble my actual life in any way at all. Working on the railway lines, drinkin' moonshine, Hank Williams, All dat. Live the cliches.
Essentially, I want to be John Henry swingin' them 30 pounds from his hips on down. In reality, I'm a spotty blogger with nothin' but a toffee hammer.
Dems the breaks...
"The best way to appreciate your job is to imagine yourself without one." - Oscar Wilde
Yeah Oscar, I'm imagining real hard brother. It looks a lot like 'Call of Duty', Sushi in underpants and waking up naturally with the 3pm church bell. In other words, it looks pretty pretty on.