omnis, I give you permission to go home. You may also stop by the Vine and tell Mr. Jane that you have a beer on us. I think he's open by now.
DJ, welcome back! How ya feelin' over there? Job prospects? How is super seekrit project for Mr. Jane doing? I'd love to head to the vine for a beer, free or otherwise, but I'm still fighting off this flu thing. Somehow, I don't think it would help my immune system. I need to get home and climb under covers and veg. Tomorrow is opening night. I told boss man I'm thinking of skipping the festivities. Not only have I had enough with the show, but I still feel like shit, so why stay up in the cold & rain, right?
Can I go home now??
Yes.
(See how I avoided entering furniture into the post?)
Also. I'm never making chestnut soup again. I spent almost two hours peeling the motherfuckers.
I'm going to recommend ginger capusules rather than Dramamine, so you won't be a zombie when you get there.
I support Sparky's rec. Dramamine is, for me, often worse than the ill. This coming from someone whose trip up Hwy1 as a child became ledge-n-dairy in the retelling over the years. At one point, the proprietor of one establishment cried in sympathy for me and suggsted putting a brown bag next to my tummy to keep it warm and cut down on the barfing. You might guess what it ended up being used for.
That is such gorgeous country, but that road can be hell on the belly.
Shir, can you buy the already cooked and peeled chestnuts next time.
Hil, the stupid things people say never fails to amaze me.
Hil, send him over to Israel.
He'll be surrounded.
Hil, the stupid things people say never fails to amaze me.
Actually, at this point I think the entire rest of the world is getting smarter; I'm pretty sure this one officemate of Hil's is blowing through several dozen people's lifetime allotments of stupid things to say. Pretty soon all the rest of us are going to run out completely.
Hil, I'm pretty sure your office mate is an alien.
