Wednesday Is The New Friday

Well that's another 'week' at work over and done with.

Time flies.

Soon I'll be drawing my pension. Except I won't because I decided that instead of paying into a pension scheme, I'd just spend all my money on the holy trinity of beer, books and broadband. Then when I reached 60, I'd just write a bestselling novel, sell the film rights for $400m and live happily ever after.

Well it's less risky than some pension schemes.

We seem to have spent much of today (the part that wasn't spent lifting 300 boxes of dubious corporate cycle clothing into the cellars) fantasising about hanging colleagues or councillors from the meat hooks in the basement of our office building. It used to be a row of Georgian houses inhabited by the super rich, and has many amusing 'period' features such as toilets made out of wood and an overpowering smell of death. Naturally, the building is being flogged off soon to be turned into appartments, like every other building in York.
I hope they keep the meathooks.....