As the weekend approaches, my thoughts turn to how much whisky I can consume, what golriously unhealthy food I can eat and the comforting thought of seeing close family again.
At last, I get released from this fucking cage called "work". My boss is a chimp, looks like the business is going under, and I've got shit to do. People to see - people that matter. I've got a whole load of living to do, and I intend to do as much of it as possible this weekend. Cue drunken rants, chilling on a large leather sofa and falling asleep in my clothes. And, of course, giving myself whiplash moshing to Slipknot as a way to "clear out the system". I just hope we don't end up diving onto each other whilst holding a bottle of Whisky. That made a mess. Ha Ha Ha! Oh well, in 500 years, no one will care..
