Out of Control Barb Wire Marathon Ends

There I was just the other day, watching that all-time classic movie Barb Wire – you know the one – the same plot as Casablanca, but improving on it by adding tattoos, disabilities, Pam Anderson and Jake the Muss. Probably the Lacky’s favourite movie, because of it’s searing honesty and depth of emotion. Hell it’s at least as good as Casablanca anyway, I mean it’s the same bloody movie, so it’s gotta be goodish. And if that doesn’t convince you nothing will.

Anyway, there I was, sitting around idly watching Barb Wire, when my phone rang. It was my boss:

Lackey: Mmm..uuhh, hullo?
Boss: Lackey? Is that you? Are you sick? You sound asleep.
L: What? Who is this?
B: It’s Boss, Lackey. What are you doing at home? Apparently noone’s seen you for a week or more. What’s going on?
L: Jeez… are you even allowed to call me at home? Isn’t there a law or something? Can I take the fifth? Hey yeah, right to privacy, and you can’t stop me having an abortion either.
B: Lackey, you live in Australia. There’s no constitution here. Only commies have constitutions. What’s going on?
L: Umm… train strike?
B: What? Train strike? Oh… I heard something about that.
L: Oh, you did? I mean, oh yeah, you did.
B: How long’s it been going?
L: Um, about a week?
B: I see. Well, when’s it finishing?
L: Umm… hopefully tomorrow?
B: Right well good. Don’t be late, you must be running behind in whatever your tasks are by now.
L: Yes sir, don’t you worry I’m champing at the bit to get right back into it!
B: Very good son, very good.
L: Thank you sir, and don’t you worry about me, I’ll find a … you’re gone aren’t you. Dammit!

So tomorrow I better get off the couch and walk the half hour to work.