After all, I've got to go to "work" tomorrow. At least Mr. Vidal told me that I should leave early, as I'm not getting paid for my valuable aid. Claro.
Today we searched for yet another letter that was sent someday to someone in a galaxy far, far away. This one we could find in the computer though. (Che gente desordenada... perame, eso es como escupir hacia arriba. ajem.)
¿Hay algo mejor que la comida buena? ¡Ah, sí! La comida buena y ¡¡¡GRATIS!!!
I got a piece of free cake though!!!! Yessir, the photocopier/mail guy celebrated the joyous anniversary of his coming into this sad, sad world of ours. They invited basically everybody in the floor, so I went in there, emotively hugged a perfect stranger, wished him a very happy birthday, and sat down and zealously ate my cake and drank my Manzana Lift. ¿Que puedo decir? Soy una pinche tragona.
En todo caso, I found out that the secretaries in the fourth floor are very funny people with a very keen sense of the almighty albur (bueno, Rosi no, she's just sort of a sweetheart). I can't be sure that their mind is dirtier than mine, but they can be tough competence, I'll give them that.
Cada día me sorprende (y aterra) más y más la capacidad de conquista de algunos hombres. Propongo que a esos se les haga la vasectomía y se les niegue así la posibilidad de reproducir más seres con su inusual (e indeseada) capacidad verbal.
Ps after leaving the House of Representatives I went to my clases of Political Marketing, which turned out to have been held yesterday, so I walked into Political Leadership (¿Quionda con ponerle político a todo? Juro que son el ícono de la originalidad). I basically ran into the room for the sake of my chastity and righteousness, never mind my sanity. For it turns out that there is some guy interested in me that kinda works there (never stayed long enough to ask him what he does exactly ...).
How do I know, you ask? Well, I'm kinda guessing and assuming the point. Dunno, I mean, maybe he just likes to get thisclose to people in general and talk to them in a soft, breathy voice (la fantasía erótica de toda mujer, sin lugar a dudas). I swear, when I'm alone he kinda rushes at me and begins talking in a creepy voice reminiscent of Michael Jackson and Jeniffer Tilly's love child.
...
*shudder*
(¿Como que mejor le dejamos ahí, no?)
I am getting a bit worried. Perhaps I'm the one on the wrong here. Maybe I don't quite get the whole human wooing thing well yet. It could very well be that the whole flowers, chocolates, (aunque suene todo choteado), meaningful conversations in a nice, manly voice tone that doesn't require dog-hearing abilities to be able to be deciphered, is a total sham created by the evil corporations in Hollywood.
Perhaps the right way to go around love matters is to make repeating sh sounds and speak in falsetto.
Que engañada he estado todo este tiempo.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment