My Friday Evening

We've had a rather uneventful week. I'm still single and lonely, the pus-dripper is scoring on the Web and hemp bunnies are under my sofas.

The business is rolling along quite nicely. The company's labour got a new kettle, so we've doubled our capacity and he's currently scrunched under my dinner table whip-stitching the ends of ropes. It's kinda cute the way he sticks his tongue out just slightly when he's getting the thread through the eye of the needle.

I'm wondering how he manages to so skillfully handle a needle when his fingertips are topped off with monstrous, inch-long daggers. He can go through a pile of freshly-cut ropes in the time it would take a normal person to halve a grapefruit.

...hm. Grapefruit.

Yup. This is just a monumentally boring Friday evening, spent weighing the benefits of juicy citrus fruit with the pain that will come from applying toothpaste to the vestigial citric acid at 9:00 p.m. (my pathos-induced bedtime).

Today's snowstorm wasn't as bad as predicted, but now we're getting freezing rain, so I'll have to scour my windshield tomorrow before heading to the gym. I wonder if the cute petite geekette-like brunette with the tight bum will be there. Hm.

My Patriots are playing for a perfect season on Sunday. I've been a rabid New England fan since the age of 11. These are happy times on THAT front.

Yup.

...time for bed I guess. Sorry for troubling you all. Even with a gargoyle, we can't ALWAYS have adventures to write about.