Mis-happenings

The Duff seems to be in a glut of misfortune. Like a hole in the ground, the shit just keeps piling up.

It all started on Saturday night, when the Duff fell asleep on his arm just for a while. He awoke to find his entire right arm numb. Even in the next morning, his two middle fingers on the right were non functional. He felt spastic. He couldn't use the mouse nor the keyboard with his usal finesse. Thankfully he could navigate with his left hand on the mouse. A quirk he had forced himself to take up some time back just for shit happens just like this.

Monday afternoon saw his entire right lap engulfed in hot soup during lunch. Thankfully he was sitting at an angle to the table, else it'd be Hasta La' Byebye to his family jewels. The lady who was serving him and who spilled the hot soup was less than apologetic, and kept up with some stupid comments that it's his lucky day and he should go buy the lottery. He retorted sarcastically that she should get it for him, or else he wouldn't be that lucky to strike it, but of course such intellectual exchange was lost on the simple minded specimen.

On Wednesday, he got back some control of his 2 middle fingers. Giving the finger was still out of the question however. That was a crippling effect that made him panic for awhile, much as the terror that a president of a bigoted country would have if he couldn't give the thumbs up.

Thursday saw his colleague engulf her mobile phone with her soya bean drink as the thin walled plastic cup holding the liquid exploded before his very eyes as she was trying to put back the cover. She lifted the phone to eye level, with the white stuff still dripping off it and she gasped, leaving her mouth open. Quite an image.

Ah.....Hormones......

It totally didn't help that a million drivers were trying to kill The Duff on the roads by attempting to smash into his car during the course of the week. Bloody idiots were like a swarm of moths being attracted to his flaming set of wheels. The counter on his curses went through the roof. Guess the person keeping score up in heaven must have been amused somewhat by this. piling on the negative points.

Speaking of swarms, the infestation of moths earlier in the year has translated into a swarm of caterpillar offspring in his house. The worst thing is that his maid has an uncontrollable fear of them. She freaks out and pesters him relentlessly. He wants to kill her.

The Duff caught the Island this week. Scarlett Johansson is da bomb! He knew she was jude to the core, but sometimes, nothing reminds one of such an undeniable fact more than a white lycra suit over a bodacious blonde.

The show was pretty watchable though. Lots of running, and futuretech. He loved the hover
jet-skis.

The slaving continues at a snail's pace. The Duff has his mid-year performance review with his slave master, and he was told that he needed to be more sociable, more visible, in the slave camp, and that he has a pretty good chance of being a permanent slave. While heartening to know that his slaving over the past few months has been satisfactory, and that he might have a dependable slave pittance in the near future, with slave perks, he is unsure whether that is the path he wants to take. He might just want to have his freeedom. He is thus torn between pushing harder at the slave camp, or to try harder to seek alternatives.

Truth of the week? The world is full of idiots, blondes are great to look at, slaving is shit, and that no one wants to share any truths with him.

Selfish bastards.