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An example of what not to do with those last few final minutes of the office week…

Do you ever get to that point where you know you should just go home?

Where you have been staring at your bloody computer screen for so long that your eyes feel like they are going to fall out of your skull?

That point where there is nothing new left in your RSS reader?

Where even though there are still fifty seven billion things to do on your to do list, you know there’s no way you are going to do that shit now?

That point where you really want to go but you’ve become such a friggin’ couch potato office zucchini that your brain and body only connect via the nerves that control the muscles that are needed to use a computer?

Where you feel like it would be good to kill some time by writing something funny on your blog but nothing funny will come out?

Where the only vaguely humourous story you have to tell is about how the guy in front of you said “lunch” when he meant to say something serious about work because he was really not thinking about serious work stuff at all but rather, lunch, but then when you write that it just seems sad because you know that you’ve just been at work all day instead of being an astronaut or something.

When you are going to dinner and if you don’t leave right now and stop buggering around on the internet waffling meaningless noise to a world that isn’t listening anyway then you’re gonna be late for INDIAN (…. mmmm ….. INDIAN….).


Oh by the way this guy who is a cool musician if I ever heard one, has just finished producing a couple of songs that he recorded me bashing out at our mutual friend Spindickle’s house last year and they are in the post so hopefully I get them before I leave for Europe on Wednesday…

Oh my god … I am leaving for Europe on Wednesday. Last time I did that I ended up stuck in Japan with a mad six and a half foot scottish ex-champion heavyweight boxer called Brian Lynch with nothing to wear but a borrowed suit jacket, an old pair of Thai fishing pants and Jesus sandals, busking for beer money and getting thrown out of faux-Irish pubs for being too loud and rowdy (go figure) … anyway that’s another story …

Listen to my tunes here
ah, go on ya mug, give it whirl …

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