THIRTEENTWELVE

I'm sat wearing my ace 13twelve boxer shorts and my ace thirteentwelve hoody (from which a new skin for the site coming soon) that Sparkle made/had made for me for my birthday. They totally rock! Cheers chick!


And behind me there are twelve 2 litre bottles of Pepsi - a litre for every year I have graced this Earth, courtesty of my boss, Frankit - cheers bro.

(13 - 1) + 12 !

Recently theres big much more emphasis in this office about the boss and his girlfriend remembering their mobile phones. Largly because the boss' girlfriend often forgets to take it, turn it on, take it off silent or charge it (so much so that the phone has now been lost).

And the boss is usually very good at taking his phone. Though sometimes, he forgets. Sometimes he forgets at right awkward times when all his mates are trying to find out where he is when they're frantically organising a gig. And sometimes he forgets it and it doesnt even ring once.

Yesterday he set off to a meeting with his mobile. Oh and the office cordless phone too.

Still, better safe than sorry.

The other day I was in the one of the local shops buying Cadburys Snack bars (*the* choclate bar of the moment they are teh s3xx0r).

While I'm in there theres a tall guy, dressed in like West Indian/Nigerian get up, like a big bright yellow and red poncho type thing with a matching hat and big thick rimmed bronze glasses and hes preaching about Europeons not eating bananas untill the beginning of the last century, sugar plantations, tea plantations and cocoa plantations - hes not getting political, or bringing up slavery or wages or anything - hes just telling this other guy, rather adamantly how things are and where (the other guy must have made the mistake of making eye contact or summin..).

This, in itself, isnt that unusual for this are. Its full of crazies.

But what did make this situation somewhat more funny was the fact that while this 6 foot plus guy was preaching about bananas, sugar and cocoa - he was also flicking through a copy of "Black Booty" magazine; which was full of tits, ass and twats and so was on full show to everyone at the counter of this shop. Good man.