hitting a performance wall
i am working at four bloody am in the morning and i hit the magical performance wall.
the wall says
"fuck off you idiot you hit me, the magical performance wall, cos you dont know shit"
to which i reply
"you are correct i 'dont know shit' but i disagree with your tone"
to which he replies
"hmm, maybe you are right-maybe thats why no-one sends me any christmas cards"
to which i follow up with the witty retort
"wait a minute you dont get christmas cards cos walls dont celebrate christmas"
to which he snaps back at me
" dont discriminate against christian walls"
then i reply humbly
"hmm sorry about that. that must depress you around christmas time"
"yes it does"
"maybe thats why you are so grumpy"
"no thats not it, its cos i lost my pet snail the other day"
"Snails are evil, i wrote this blog about it once-explained it an everything"
"i didnt read it"
"aah dont feel guilty, you dont even have a computer"
"i dont feel guilty im merely stating a fact"
"oh.. well.. hmm.. i think ill be off then"
"wait you havent even seen my party trick"
"ill show you"
the wall then proceded to burn me to a crisp using his firey breath of doom. but put me out in time using a bottle of vimto mixed with diet coke. this meant i wast cooked and sweet tasting- much like a honey roasted peanut. i shall never mock a honey roasted peanut ever again.