Tuesday, 11 March 2014

The Tuesday Commeth

Good morning and good day to you my fine fillies and gallant geezers. I'm afraid that once again the yardarm of the week has swung round and clocked us on the back of the head, sending us head first into a large barrel of two day old mackerel. Which can of course only mean one thing, it's time for . . . 'The Tuesday'.

For your viewing pleasure this morning, if you look out of your window, you will of course notice that the glorious sparkling sunshine from yesterday has been replaced with a grey and dreary anticyclonic gloom. And for your audible delight this morning, you will find that the usual gaiety of chirruping birdsong that makes up the dawn chorus, has been replaced by the repetitive grating sounds of crows and seagulls. All of which just to adds to the personal joy of awaking to find yourself starring up into the bottom of a 'The Tuesday'. A Tuesday that reeks like the breath of a very elderly dog called Skip, who has just finished licking his testicles and has a particularly bad case of halitosis brought on by a terminal gum disease.

Still on the bright side, I'm glad to report that Monday passed with it's usual swiftness, and without too much biting. Plus we were given another opportunity to skip in Spring sunshine, and frolic naked in fields of daffodils. . . No!? . . . Just me on that one then. Still the clear bright skies and warm sunshine did make for an almost pleasant start to the week.

I also can't help but notice that Facebook has decided to give itself yet another face lift. Not really sure about it yet, no doubt I will become accustomed to it. Although at the moment it's just seems a bit too 'in-your-face' and chunky for my liking. Which strangely enough, is quite often how I'm referred to when people meet me for the first time.

Right, well as much as I would love to sit here all day banging on and on about the empty bucket of hopelessness that The Tuesday flings at us, I fear I must crack on with things. They say time and tide wait for no man, and neither it seems do deadlines for museum graphics. So I bid you farewell, and pray that your day is going to be an altogether less unpleasant experience than I fear mine is going to be.

Stay strong people, I'll see you tomorrow.

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