When you are at the office and someone walks up to you and asks “would you like me to get the cart [from two floors down] for you?” and you say “Yes, thank you. We need the one with pictures of Corgis on it” and they bring you the cart with pictures of sloths on it…
Well of course news of Mr. Mandela’s passing comes as I’m busy programming the names of the Reservoir Dogs into our printer/scanner/copiers for giggles. Of course I was on Mr. Pink.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear my own mother got her mitts on a Facebook account.This is a friend trying to be proud of his dog, and I think I’m in love with his family member and her non-sequitur theater.
I took a screenshot of a screenshot.
Now I have to spend today interviewing friends and family to isolate the moment that I let my brain slide down the kitchen sink drain, and left it there.
I guess the photo makes it look like the garden hose is further away from the - I have no idea - is this a religious garden gnome? The hose was resting on him and it intrigued me so much. “Is that the saint of unwound hoses?” Mr. Zoom said “keep that question in your head, don’t let it out.”
Then we all started to leave and people were saying goodbye and I kept saying “Thank you for coming,” at not my house, not my party.
I swear to unwound hoses guy, I have no idea why that kept coming out of my yap hole.