I Don't Feel Like Ranting

Well as per usual on a Friday my entry consists of me moaning about the vanishing act my colleagues do. One - who shall remain nameless because his actions are so shameful - has rolled out the excuse he is going to a funeral for the third Friday on the bounce. The first time was legit, the second (last weeks) wasn't as he was spotted on a pub by another skiving workmate a million miles away from where the funeral he'd claimed to be going to actually took place.

At least R told me the truth about his skiving. I can live with that. Mind he won't be doing much drinking for a month as he's on some sort of evil pills that state you can't have any alcohol. He seriously told me he considered not taking the pills as he can't survive without drink. So, because I am so nice and he is the only one that defends me in the office when the rest of them start picking on me; I have pledged to give up the drink - including cocktails (even though they don't count as alcohol :D) for the four weeks. Hopefully his pills will be finished by 6 Dec which is our works xmas do. Venue to be decided as the town is shit on a Wednesday.

On a happier note we may all be able to tell the company directors & consultants to piss off next week if we win the Euro Millions lotto. 120 million big ones. Our syndicated have elected to have a three month cruise while we decide how best to spend our winnings.

R thinks he'd buy a big country pile with a swimming pool filled with champagne & scantily clad females.

JK says he'd buy a private island and treat me to a world cruise, bless him. Though he does owe me for all the times I've helped him out the shit.

Bosses J & E would buy a new house, cars and a holiday home in Benidorm and Bulgaria.

B would buy a Ducati superbike and a villa in Ibiza most probably - because the woman are loose in the summer! His words not mine.

P would buy our company then fire us all! He also get an Aston Martin and a private jet and swan about the world pretending to be James Bond.

And me?? Well I'd buy a flash apartment, private helicopter, own a string of racehorses (both disciplines), set up a donkey sanctuary and hire hot ex marines & SAS as bodyguards-come-play-things.

However we have unanimously agreed that the best thing to do would be to fins a cure for our much missed friend T. Get well soon hon. Our thoughts & prayers are with you always xx

TJ