Is this a worst because he’s the lone employee continuing to work while the mob watches the Melbourne Cup on the big screen behind him? Or is it a worst because one employee won’t get involved in the bonding Teh Cup brings to a workplace? Or is it a worst because the Melbourne Cup is two minutes of crap? Wait, looking closer, isn’t that the UK Swingers Club website he’s looking at? So many questions.
And because I haven’t had anywhere else to put it, here’s Skink’s last She-Ra find, where she literally channels Tiny Pinder.
I may just be being paranoid here but I think they are all looking at me.
The woman on the right hand bottom corner of the photo appears to be wearing a blue plastic plate with a disgruntled rat on top of it, on her head, wish I had one.
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I sense great vulnerability. A man-child crying out for love. An innocent orphan in the post-modern world.
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A UK swinger?
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Ljuke, well he does have a jar of baby food in front of him, so your man-child assumption is probably correct. An innocent orphan in a shampoo and brushless post-modern world.
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It’s just like an Aussie ‘6th sense’ type experience where only we can see dead people. But I can’t figure out who the ghosts are?
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They’re all international students at Curtin waiting for suitable accomodation to be found for them…
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all yesterday afternoon there was a steady trickle of ladies in short dresses and silly hats doing the walk of shame past my office window, staggering home from Ascot with their strappy shoes in their hands.
I had to suppress the urge to shout :”hey, you’ve got carrot in your fascinator!”
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Is that cream cheese in your fascinator ? One hell of a dodgy event : up there with the Town of Vincent. Bart’s twelfth : yeah right .
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