Wow.
So Ellen went back to Melbourne yesterday and I became nutritionaly instantly a bachelor.
Part of my breakfast this morning was a packet of chips.
Dinner was pistaccios, some dutch almond biscuits and three beers.
Oh, and we've run out of washing-up liquid, so the washing-up is piling up.
Oh, and my fly's undone.
Fuck it: I think it's time to line up the shots and put on some real hair band rock.
(exits waving whiskey bottle and singing "Pour Some Sugar on Me")
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4 comments:
Aren't you legally required to play air guitar to "Old Time Rock n' Roll" in your underwear at this point?
I think you're supposed to deal with the dishes with a 12 bore, like in that Christina Applegate movie. The dishes are done, man.
Armagedditon.
"Right, you fucker, I'm going to do the washing up!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P8D5lAEx2lA&feature=related
just so long as the dishes are still piled up by the time she gets back.
doorbitch: goodunn
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