A quick update, as I'll be heading to a quaint New-England seaside village for a marketing seminar for the next few days.*After a particularly aromatic lunch of vegetable korma, I decided it was necessary to purchase some refreshingly-minty gum. On the first floor of our building facing Main Street is a small botega which we affectionately refer to here at The Firm as "the brothel". On the counter, next to the Orbit is a package of Horniest Goat Weed capsules. And at a bargain for only $3.99.
*One bottle of Australian Merlot + painting ceramics = a surgically enhanced nipple. Confused? Welcome to my world.
*Yesterday saw the staging of a mass protest, bringing millions of immigrants (legal and illegal) together for a common goal. Non-Hispanic people country-wide found highways less congested with crappy Nissan Stanzas with no functional brake-lights and their homes markedly more untidy. I keed, I keed.
*Nineteen days until my (much needed) vacation to Ireland. Want me to bring you back a souvenir? I charge a 37% finders fee.
3 comments:
Can we expect off-site marketing junket hi-jinks updates?
Wombat
PS: I barely understood anything in this post.
You'll have to settle for a post-event update. The days are filled with meetings, the nights are consumed with alcohol and me pretending that corny jokes amuse me. In some strange way, I guess they do...
The nipple thing...I went to a ceramics class this past weekend and the studio always promotes BYOB. Fast forward to the studio owner showing me her new nipple (she's a cancer survivor), and then her real nipple. I think she digs me. Sometimes the overt sexual advances are uncomfortable. Most times, I'm drunk and don't care about much of anything.
Hooray for her new nipple, and hooray for booze. Everyone's a winner.
I have this vision of you remaining detached from the corny joke-tellers and other overly-chummy confab folk.
In anticipation of your report.
Wombat
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