Monday morning has turned out to be a typical one. I got into work, rushed for the coffee shop, realised I had no money on my swipecard, went to the bank, the machine was out of order, went back to the underground station, up to the ATM there, waited in the queue, got to the front, forgot my PIN, twice, went to the back of the queue, now twice as long as when I was there the first time, got to the front, remembered my PIN, back to work, coffee, bacon roll, zen.





6 Comments:
ant mode
Fine ah ken whit's wrang wi' you - the Docters hiv a name fir whit you've goat - they ca it Atrophy. Yince it's there - it's a' doon hill. it's the first irreversible sign o' old age. Go tae bed an' greet - there's nothin else for it! As my Auld Uncle Tam yewst tae say - "Hahaha - you're fucked".
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So long as it's not intellectual atrophy it makes it easier.
It's Friday nicht - the 13th- an there's nae mair! Last entry oan Monday! Hiz he exploded! Atrophied aw' the gither? Whars yer creative spirit? Remember yew've goat a wheen o' readers oot here an we're like viscious beasts - if you dinnae come oot tae us, we'll come in tae get yew. Write or Fuckoff. Proamises will nie cut it. We, the readers, want oor rightful copy!
I agree, 'Write or Fuckoff'.
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