It has been having a particularly tough week at work because it seems as though everything is happening at the same time and I’m always rushing for something.
Thank god I have fabulous friends who keep me in their (dirty or otherwise) thoughts.
(On e-Shopping for Sex Slaves) [via MSN]
A: I need to perk you up with something man.
Me: With what?
A: I’m buying a sex slave online. You want?
Me: Oh. I want leh. What kinds are available?
A: Turkish Delight and the Danish ones you love.
Me: Oh, me likey! Turkish Delight is like so exotic.
A: I’m going for the Russian ones, if hairy chest turn you on.
Me: Actually, I was thinking of the Japanese kind, but I heard that their review is not so good…
A: Yah, I think they may be psychotic when it comes to bed habits.
Me: Yes, too much hassle if you ask me. Let’s just go for the straightforward, very hot kind. No niche fetish.
A: Oh, you mean like male model kind? Or 300 kind? Or small-eyed Korean kind?
Me: Hmmm… there’s this dude in 300? The one who got decapitated? I think he’s is damn beautiful!
A: That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about. Please. No lusting after him.
Me: Oh. Sorry, didn’t know that. Next time please get him to tattoo your name on his chest, so that people will know and there won’t be any misunderstandings.
A: Yah. And I’m not even talking about your boyfriend like he is a piece of meat.
Me: HAHAHA! Wth man. Sprouting so much nonsense so early in the morning.
In other useless ephiphanies, I realised that the administrative part of meeting preparations (i.e. printing, stapling papers) can be quite therapeutic. It is something like how back in school, we used to be able to sing the national anthem and think about recess at the same time.
On the other hand, I am terrified of the potential paper cuts (and the occasional flying staple), which I’ll like to describe as split-seconds of intense, searing pain, concentrated on one tiny portion of your skin.
In the days where we had the luxury of time to talk about things like morbidity, sadism and death (together or separately), death by paper cuts was one of the sickest ideas we came up with.
Death by mechanical pencils is a good one too.