31 July, 2003

Grindstone

Claire called me up at work to taunt me about the fact that I’m working late. Well; okay, she didn’t, but she night as well have, because I’m still at the office, slogging away at a chunk of Bovini for a deadline tomorrow, not making much progress, and I only spoke to the client earlier today about how things look like they could go okay… (moral: never get optimistic with clients)

Anyway; to cut a long story short, I don’t expect to get out of here any time soon, and it sounds like everybody’s having a great time without me. <sob>

I want to go home.

Idea Of The Day From Alex And Dan I

Wouldn’t the world be so much better a place if brits had to go through some kind of vetting procedure – a test of sorts – before they were permitted to go on holiday to Ibiza?

An example extract from an interview might be:

Interviewer : Question twelve: if you were to be granted passage to go to Ibiza, how would you spend your time there?
Applicant : I’d dress up as a girl, go out with my mates, get completely wrecked, make unwanted advances towards women, and take the piss out of the locals.
Interviewer : Okay… I’m afraid we’re going to have to decline your application. Have you considered Antarctica?