What happened to the gold-plated champagne?

[davywavy]

Despite that fact that I now write my own pay cheques, this month I got paid my smallest amount since 1998. I swear, it's like working for Scrooge McDuck except that there is no grain bin full of gold to bathe in.

Data loss at this stage might still sink us. Long day today and I'll probably be in the office tomorrow as well, typing. Ah, work, 'twill be the death of me. Or a random passer-by if I direct my frustration more constructively.

I think someone at the gym may have stolen my MP3 player last night. I'll go by this evening to ask if it's been handed in.

Oh, and it's my birthday.

In other news, this has succeeded in the currently-difficult task of making me laugh.

Comments

[davywavy.livejournal.com]

Gah, I'm embarrassed by your generosity in giving me stuff.

Come to Manchester on the 20th. Bring your wench.

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

Manchester I can manage I believe, not sure about my lady. And hey, you need a pick you up after your rotten luck this week.

[davywavy.livejournal.com]

Bop her over the head and drag her along. I think she ought to meet us.
The wench & I will probably be getting a hotel for the saturday night, FYI.

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

I'll have to work out crash space and whatnot depending...

email me yer address laddy

[davywavy.livejournal.com]

I'm sure a well set up young fellow like you can afford a hotel for one night?

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

I should think so, aye.