What do we have to look forward to?

Well Christmas is arriving in the supermarkets already and we've got the date and venue of our work's Christmas do.

Ooh yes. 30 hours of golf. Grand. Then perhaps we can all play ping pong. With our balls. Using a cheese grater as a racquet. All while merrily fisting ourselves with a hedgehog and having our ear drums raped by Geri Halliwell. Top banana.

go the euros in the Ryder Cup

.

There's not really anything to look forward to any more. Your future is 30-40 hours of mindless work a week, where the moments in-between are generally full of concerns either about children or money or both. You'll retire when you're nearly dead at which point you'll be concerned about money, children and death instead. It's best to wander off into the sunset, plod around the world madly for ten years and die a mysterious death whilst trying to conquer Everest than to carry on in this self-perpetuating madness.

Gus, you need to get a shag. Your misery is reaching the depths of Richie Manic.

Brass Monkey wrote:Gus, you need to get a shag. Your misery is reaching the depths of Richie Manic.

That guy plays cricket for us. He's not dead.

None of you lot can relate - I'm simply a realist. I've lifted the veil from your sugar-coated existence and inspired the fears to come. Don't hate me for it.

Gus, we don't hate you, we just fear for you.