The contents of my handbag are spread out across the windowsill like wares laid out in a sticky little shop, drying in the sunshine following an incident with a tub of blackberries and blackcurrants in red grape juice. It's been that kind of day.
“Everyone’s always on about how great nature is. I fucking hate nature cos
it made us the way we are and we didn’t even have a choice. Like fucking
cancer....
6 comments:
Ah Jasus. I'm still finding cashew nuts from the bottom of my backpack after an incident three months ago.
I'm avoiding clearing the whole thing out y'see.
And no, I don't eat them.
I tend to spill things down my front all the time. The other week I had to walk around for most of the day with a huge streak of ink down my shirt.
And then there was the pasta sauce incident...
I often find stray bits of food caught in my cleavage - handy if I'm peckish on the way home from work.
Handbags - don't even go there...
yeah you do, Terence.
nice, Billy. i once spilt a bottle of wine all over my crotch at a festival, which made me look like i'd had an "accident". it took ages to dry. mortifying.
Jayne, i don't know if i'm disgusted or impressed. maybe a little of both.
Rosie - had a similar experience twice in the last month. Damnmit for being sensible and bringing lunch to work. Yogurt or pineapples in their juice no longer feature as part of my lunch. Its not a nice feeling reaching into your bag for something and discovering that horrible sticky mess (*snigger*)
dirtbird...
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