It seems I'm the only one always in the office, so it's down to me. They'll regret it though...
Okay, so Tarquin (the next door fleabag) told me that his girlfriend (yeah right... as if...) read in Cosmo that a cat is supposed to sleep 18 hours a day, so I'm in a really bad mood already, and apparently behind schedule. And now, I've got this effing blog to write...Why am I in a mood? The effing UPS (whatever that is) is on the blink (new battery set needed or somethin') - according to Squitts (the creep who setup this Blog for me... what a loser). So, what that means is that I have nowhere warm and comfortable to lie on during my mandatory 18 hours sleep - yeah right! Fat chance now of getting that...
...and I wish they'd stop calling me friggin' Tin-Tin. My name is RAMBO FART the third!
And... there's this recession thing (whatever that is) that probably means I won't get any prawns for some time - at least until Griff gets back from where ever he is. What, where is this recession? What's it all about? Who started it, and what kind of friggin' lottery system is the stock market? Where is this recession thing, and where has all the money gone? It can't have disappeared, someone must have it. So who's got it? They've stolen my effing prawns!
...and just when it can't get any more stupid... banks, who are supposed to lend money (let's face it, what else are they for?) need money to get themselves out of the very crisis they created. Only who do they get it from? Yeah right, the government give them public money - my prawn money, f*** 'em! Then, when the public want to borrow money from the banks (the very money 'we' gave the banks to prop them up) the banks lend it back, only this time charging us interest on our own money ... sheesh, and humans think animals are stupid!
Anyway, that's more than enough for now...
Night suckers...
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