Listen, when I invited you to cocktails, I was taking the piss. I’ve had a nice week. Minimal amount of work, lazy mornings, slobbing in front of the telly, and we’re going to France next week. School holidays are ace.
Ace, but a little bit untidy. This place is a mess and I expect you to tidy it before you go home. Graybo is drinking a cherry caipirinha, and has also contributed some of his surfeit of cherries, please don’t leave stones around the place, spit them in the bucket over there. He’s collecting the rubbish later, I hope. Can’t stand a mess in my virtual cocktail zone.
At least Mike and K are playing nicely, and sharing their Cosmo and its various embellishments, but again I say to you, do not leave your sparkly bits all over the floor. Frankly, I’ve had enough of picking up after you people. Get a bin bag off Graybo, would you?
This mop is for Clair, dripping in the doorway and sipping her Pina Colada (there’s always one); and Pockless, please keep on top of all your bits and pieces of paper and pencil sharpenings and other leavings, for heaven’s sake.
Obviously I’m not expecting any help from the invalids krissa, asta and Tom, who have spent a great deal of time sitting on their arses comparing injuries. I, of course, never do that. Krissa asked for a virgin cocktail; she might want to talk to Graybo about his surplus cherries. If you need anything else, ask Ms Gammidgy, who seems excessively cheerful. Child-free weekend coming up, by any chance? Don’t waste it watching back-to-back Game of Thrones episodes with ‘tother Mike…. oops too late.
Meanwhile, I’m finding bits of popcorn under the sofa and toy cars just about everywhere. If I turn my back for one minute, people are rampaging through the house with toy guns and spades, scattering jigsaw pieces and climbing into the wardrobe, which I have told you TWENTY TIMES not to do. Pigwotflies, you’re full of coffee, can’t you keep an eye on them? I suspect it’s those beerswilling oiks Pete and Stuart.
As for Sevitz, if you get a house, people will just come round and trash it. Go and live under a bridge.
Gah, I’m going to make some more bread. It’s going to be very, very well-kneaded.
I’ve never been called an oik before. I quite like it.
Bravo on the surplus cherries gag. Very well done indeed.
Happy weekend all.
At least you lot got a drink!*
* (hobbles off in a huff)
oh wait… there it is… under a pile of Lego.
What’s the word for the grey twists of rubber that result from an extensive bout of rubbing out? I’m ankle deep in those. Cheers!
If I worked from home, I’d spend my whole day rubbing one out too.
I was going to join the grim cocktails, but I’ve had a really good week, so I didn’t feel right to be included. 🙂
Yeah, get lost you cheery bastard.
I *still* have cherries left.