Facebook tells me I have 11 friends. How come I only ever see one of you lot regularly then. Eh? The rest of you never call, you never write. I only got a Christmas card from one of you and you’re from Americaland. It’s not even as if I live on the moon or anything, for most of you I’m only an hour down the road.
Enough of that!
Work continues to be a hotbed of scandal rife with miscarriages of justice….or at least the office gossips think it is. Personally I’ve grown bored with the whole “who’s making the beast with two backs with who”, “guess what so and so said about such and such” and “Wassername from marketing told thingy that she’d had bum sex with her new boyfriend.”. If you want to spread gossip please provide some juice behind it or at least make it interesting and about me.
In other news I’ve been trying to educate my eldest daughter, Snarly, in the topic of music. It goes something like this:
Me: Snarly, for the love of all that is good and righteous in this world listen to my music.
Me: *puts on a CD of The Sex Pistols*
Me: This is what would be considered “Good” music.
Me: Shush child! This is considerably better than that crummy Busted that you listen to.
Snarly: McFly dad.
Me: The point is that if all the members of a band dance then the music is rubbish.
Snarly: Can I do my homework now dad?
Me: This is more important than homework!
You see what I have to deal with at home. No wonder I’m a nervous wreck.