“There’s a bum fight outside”
I have literally just heard this across the office from one of my work mates.
I stood bolt upright.
“What did you just say???”
“There’s a bum fight happening outside”, he repeated.
Halfway through my Olympic record sprint to the window I realised he was talking about this:
Whereas I imagined this:
Damn you America…..damn you.
This morning I had a poo.
When the performance was over I stood up, turned around to flush away the nastiness only to see the water was red with blood!
What the fuck?
I panicked. I was scared! Why am I bleeding out of my bum? Am I dying? Is this the end????
Oh, wait, I had Beetroot salad last night.
I try to avoid posting twice in quick succession, especially since it’s been a writing drought recently, but I simply had to share this.
I was driving home from work today and, as I joined the freeway, there was a huge billboard offering ‘Vaginal Tightening’.
This was an occasion where ‘LOL’ was appropriate.
I really did. Loudly.
It was highly amusing and therefore I shared it on Facebook. I mean, it’s funny but I didn’t think it warranted a post of its own.
Anyway, as I neared home I saw a store selling alcohol; a self proclaimed outlet of alcohol, or ‘liquor’ as they called it.
Yes, that’s right, it was called ‘Liquor Outlet’.
I had to pull over before I ROFL’d into the car in front.
Today is Christmas Day and I am at work.
To be honest, I don’t really mind; the commute to the office was easier, my colleagues are in a festive mood and the customers have reached new depths of unmeasured dumbfuckery.
It all keeps me smiling.
One of the guys (and a good friend) is playing Christmas music loudly through his computer.
How very festive.
I’m torn between my love for him, my disdain for Christmas music and the utterly overwhelming desire to shove his PC up his arse.
I was sat on the train next to the window. There was a woman sat to my left reading a book on her Kindle. The train was packed and there were people stood all the way down the aisles.
At one point the train started to leave Clapham Junction station and then abruptly stopped. The law of Inertia did its thing and threw a man onto the lap of the woman sat next to me.
She instinctively put her hands up to catch him and she succeeded, resulting in her holding his arse perfectly with a buttock lovingly held in each hand.
Is there anything more funny than a perfect and accidental full on arse grab? I don’t think so.
Without removing her hands she pushed him back to his feet and he said, “I’m so sorry!”
She said, “That’s ok”, but it clearly wasn’t.
Her Kindle wasn’t the only thing that was re(a)d.