Tuesday, 18 March 2008
An empty promise?
Drat! Have a week off work and it turns out it's the ruddy easter holidays so all the abominable little brats are off school. Christ! They're everywhere, the little buggers. I blame Jesus for this. If he hadn't been so lazy and allowed himself to be caught and crucified, he never would have risen from the dead - the bloody zombie - and had all this holiday malarkey made up in his honour. I bet if he'd managed to eat a few more brains, rather than the eggs, chicks and bunnies that he found after he escaped from his tomb, people wouldn't've been so enamoured with him and we wouldn't have this ridiculous holiday.
Anyway, the throngs of kids covered in smears of chocolate from half-eaten easter eggs, had built up in such numbers that I couldn't stand it any longer. So, I'm now en route to somewhere less kid-friendly: Cybertron.
I was going to trans-stellar spectralise there, but Cybertron doesn't have any drone-hosts to drop into. Besides, The Host wanted to come too, so we're on a substar sailer being waited on hand and foot in the VIP lounge. This certainly is the unlife!
I'm writing this while I wait for my next cocktail to be brought over - A Stardrifter! I know it's a little early in the day to be at the cocktails already, but the waiter looks remarkably like Connor Trinneer, only with two extra arms. Imagine the possibilities!
I may be a week or so, but I promise to send postcards when I can...