Did I tell y'all that Mr. Hot and I recently invested actual money in an English soccer team? (That's The Footy for all of us, y'know, ehem, owners.)
He called me earlier in the week and asked if I had received his email. Um, no. Probably caught by the spam filter that allows "Pen!s Gr()w$ 4 1nch3s" but destroys "Make sure you enroll in your Health Benefits during Open Enrollment" (the latter, I'm not kidding, came from an internal email address!)
So, he bought us shares in Ebbsfleet United. Through this site. Hee. Maybe I'll get to meet the Queen when we win the Championship or whatever. She'll call me "Lady Hot" and I'll get to ogle our Will. Or is it Harry that's the cute one? Anyway, I'll still remember all of you when I'm hanging with Posh and Becks.
I told Major Bedhead that I'd send people over to take a look at her birthday wish from yesterday. (Yes, MB and my Mom have the same birthday.) Go look and learn. It's important.
One of the guys I work with sent me an email that had a bunch of "Mood Buttons You Can't Wear to Work" graphics. The phone call I just got off of made me wish I could wear this one while talking to the brainiac from Audit.
I just don't know how many times I can tell him that something doesn't exist. If it did exist I would certainly send it, just so he would quit calling me every hour (he even refers to it by a different name, in case, y'know, I didn't understand the first eleventy-seven times.And, to end, since I started on an English note, enjoy yourselves some Lily Allen. I love the lyrics from this. Seriously, "Tesco" and "Al Fresco"? How good is that?
---- Okay. Now, I have to go make some calls about this phantom document that the brainiac wants me to pull out of my arse. (See, arse! I'll fit right in.) ----
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