What I really wanted to say…

Lacking the blog #inspo, as the kids call it these days. So I’m just going to tell you what has popped into my head today so far, and have not said because of propriety / CBF.

Wanted to say to workmate with no interior monologue whatsoever: Seriously, and I really mean this: You go to lunch! Go home! You tell that person what you think. You SEND that email. You go girl! OH you are going to the toilet? That is FANTASTIC!

To dickhead I know and had to have coffee with: Ugh. Seriously, are you trying to look like Errol Flynn with the pocket square and ironic mo? It’s not even original anymore.

To lady a mac counter at Myer: Yes, am happy to pay $41 for new lipstick. Sorry, crayon, yeah whatevers. But would prefer not to. Sigh, need pick me up. There you go.

To the hipster on his fixie riding towards Bayswater station: Are you lost? If not, why are you living so far away from cold drip single origin? Is it because you are staying with mum before you go to Berlin to pursue your dreams as a conceptual artist? And isn’t it hard to cycle with that button done up to your big pubic beard?? Surely it’s restrictive?

To our black Labrador, George: you are welcome to stay outside overnight for ‘George time’, but 4.30am is much too early to tell us and the neighbours all about the possums on the fence. Be quiet puppydogs (actually I may have said something).

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