Arrr!!! The title today comes from the very funny ABC kids program 'Those Scurvy Rascals', sadly they don't have a website, but if you do get the chance, watch it because the entire, 5 minute plot works beautifully, and the characters don't say a word. Here is all I can remember of the show's song.
They all sail aboard,
from Jamaica to Panzance,
They don't want gold, they don't want treasure (NO!)
They just want your pants.
Pants on the poop deck
Pants in the hold
Pants in the boat where there should be gold..
Unfortunately I've forgotten the rest of the song, but at least it's a funny song. On other piratey news, I am invited to a coworker's party, which involves a lot of a) alcohol (ouch me head, me hearties) and b) pirates. I'm kind of secretly hoping that it's dress up, because there are not enough dress up parties these days.
And just to make this post all the more positive, the idiot whom I so loathe working with? Well it turns out he is only working fulltime for one more week! YAY! Party! The downside, well I am flat broke (as for why? see previous post) and my supervisor's birthday is on the day before she comes back. Rats, rate double rats, triple fucking rats! Apologies for the swearing, where the usual expletive substitution just doesn't work.
Oh and something pretty special about my supervisor, she is qualified! (QUALIFIED! I am seriously loving the term qualified when the choice is between working with an imbecile who talks too much and is just a general pain in the arse, to working with someone who has a valid opinion, who just doesn't shit you off in general)
Oh and we got air-con at work. Just in time for winter. Makes you smile doesn't it.
Oh and I've also decided to make the knucks from my beautiful Noro, given that this is a finger-up pattern (not suss, honest!) means I can make the knucks as far as I can stretch the yarn. Two hands, two balls, coincidence? I think not.
*edit* I've just received the utterly horrible news that my Grandmother has passed away. This zany crazy lady has been in Intensive Care for six weeks, so we've been expecting the worst for a while... but I still can't believe it. Her. Gone. SHIT.
Will post pictures later.
double adios, goodnight.