The Compostual Existentialist

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Inspir-o-gummy: My Day

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Day 06 – Your day

I was awoken this morning by one of the curvy servant twins performing fellatio on me as usual. Her twin brought me breakfast on a golden trolley which was laden with delicious bacon dishes including sandwiches, full English breakfasts and bacon cereal with bacon milk. After taking a cooling and refreshing morning shower I headed out to the heliport in the garden and was flown to Canary Wharf where the head office of my global empire is based. There in I called David Cameron and told him he was a “fucking plonker” and suspended him from work for a week or so. “Holiday” was the official line. After checking my email I then caught my private tube train to Kings Cross where I boarded my private Eurostar bound for the Pyrenees and the secret golf course.

Of course I am too important and wealthy to lower myself to pick up a golf club so I watched my employee Mr Woods knock a few holes in one for a couple of hours before boring of this and retreating to the club house where I had lunch with Barry McGuigan and Peter Bowles. As an amusement we decided to rough it today and only had one bowl of saffron garnished lotus leaves instead of the usual four. What wags we are!

Soon after that it was necessary to return to the UK in order to beat rush hour traffic. Back at the office I got my secretary to check my email once more before tiring from a hard day at the office and headed back to Warwickshire in the company Lear jet at about 2pm. It’s so trying working these 3 hour days. Still, needs must…

On my return zoefruitcake and I dined on yet another 11 course banquet and now we are sitting pool side while serving ninnies bring us every whim at our bequest and a troupe of actors perform stage adaptations of our favourite episodes of Doctor Who and Dixon of Dock Green.

It’s times like this that I long for the mundane existence of rising at 7am, rushing through the morning ablutions before trying to avoid rush hour traffic in Rugby then sitting in an office for 7 and a half hours trying to look busy or unpacking PCs and solving peoples IT problems before going home tired, there to sit in front of the television until bedtime. I mean imagine how exciting your day would be if you lived every week day like that?

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Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists.

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