Also Sprach Zarathustra

I wasn't at work on Monday afternoon. Instead, I wandered into the living room and slumped down like a sack of spuds onto the settee and flicked on the TV to see what was on.
I was pleased to see what I at first took to be either a serious scientific programme about Homo Troglodytes or maybe that scene in 2001 where the ape-men start shrieking and picking up clubs to murder each other. However, the first advert break proved me wrong when I discovered I was actually watching The Jeremy Kyle show.
I've got to say it was one of the most depressing things I've ever seen. People with no impulse control being paraded in front of an audience, a bit like Victorians popping down to Bedlam to watch the fruitcakes gurn and caper - the only difference here being that I didn't have to pay a shilling to get in.

Anyway, this morning I woke up feeling a bit under the weather. I could skive today, I thought to myself. That'd be rather nice. I could get up late, do no work, and sit around the house in my pants stuffing my face and watching telly, just like the people on the Je-

And then I got up and went to work.