Smuel's good morning extravaganza

Off to the first lesson in irish dance. Wish me good luck.

Good morning.

 

Best I can do is the luck of the Irish.

Good morning.

 

Day 48 of my three day war to lib... I mean three day special operation to liberate hot chocolate from the nazis.

Disaster has struck. While pursuing my secondary objective of using a large mug for my hot chocolate, I have been venturing forth to the kitchen on the floor below, to get one from there, since there are never enough in the upstairs kitchen, since I'm pretty sure my arch-nemesis Bah'Rista takes them all before I get there.

Yesterday I thought I would strike a blow for freedom and bring a fistful of extra mugs upstairs with me, so that my grateful co-workers could bask in the luxury of slightly bigger mugs. But as I carried the precious cargo up the stairs and into the kitchen I saw that one of the cleaners, an obvious ally of the enemy, had wheeled a trolley full of larger mugs into the kitchen and was laying them out on the shelf before me. My benevolence had been in vain!

Oh how they all laughed! Oh what a mockery Smuel has made of himself! The entire floor pretended not to notice anything amiss, but I know for sure they were laughing in their hearts! Whispering cruel rumours and murmuring their derision! How dare they betray me like this? After I have bravely stood alone on their behalf against the tyranny of Bah'Rista and his busybody army of building staff and cleaners.

Oh dreadful morning!

 

I hate stink bugs. But more than them I hate my brother who insist on wide opening the windows so those bastards came in (despite the mosquito net is closed).

Good morning.

 

The temperature has finally dropped out of the 90s/100s (high 30s/low 40s for you centigrade chumps) this week, so I picked up some hot chocolate packets today. In hopes of slowing my circumferential expansion, I opted for the "No Sugar Added" variety. Hopefully it's drinkable. If not, maybe I can hold my nose and choke down some coffee. Yuck!

Good day

 

<Eyes Japes suspiciously>

<For a number of reasons>

Good morning.

 

Gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to inform you that yesterday I matched a single sock from the laundry to another single sock in the pile of single socks that I have kept for over 10 years.

Good morning.

 

You guys match socks?
Good morning.

 

Like a socks match maker, ah?

Good morning.

 

Guys, I don't know how to tell you this, but I just matched ANOTHER pair of single socks. Incredible!

Good morning.


[edit]

Okay, I think I see what happened. I previously left out a sock when doing the laundry, and when sorting the socks afterwards I accidentally matched two similar, but not identical socks together, leaving one unmatched. It went into my single socks pile. Then, later, when the previously left out sock was washed, it also came out of the laundry as a single, and that time I noticed that it didn't exactly match any of the other singles. So those two odd socks stayed in the pile, while the other two stayed paired together in my sock drawer.

Recently, I may have used one of the single socks for... something. It doesn't matter what exactly it was. Anyway, for whatever reason, one of the single socks re-entered the laundry cycle, and this time, when it came out, I successfully matched it to one of the ones in the single sock pile. Hooray!

That just left two unpaired matching socks in circulation, so it didn't take long for those to be matched too. Hooray!

 

"Hi there -- would you like to sign my petition?" (cit.)

Good morning.

 

Do you remember the first time you realised that someone was nervous because they were talking to you? I still get surprised when it happens. I mean, really? Nervous talking to me? Like... why?

Good morning.

 

I don't know :|
Anyway, did you ever meet (IRL or online) some conspiracy nutjob? What is the craziest story you ever heard from such people?
Good morning.

 

Pretty sure there was a thread on here a while back where some people said they thought the moon landings were faked.

Of course, this is The House Of Lords, so chances are that most of them were trolling. But who knows.

Good morning.

 

Moon landing faked? Often the conspiratists say Stanley Kubrick directed the video, underestimating if the Nasa had actually contacted him he would have gone to the moon himself for the purpose of realism. You know, since he was such a perfectionist.

Anyway, I love reading all these nonsense, it's pure entertainment.

Good morning.

 

I feel the same way about your posts too.

Good morning.

 

(or should I be worried?)

Good morning.

 

So I read this and I had to say I was appalled and disgusted. I feel like it's an admission of being human filth.

I mean at first I read about the likely position of mopping up soppy ejaculate with a sock, and I was like... "Alright, makes sense." But then I reread and saw the horror:

I mean if that isn't the actions of a raving, un-sock-obsessed psychopath - I don't know what is.

I'd say it's a chill morning, but not because of the temperature or relaxing vibe. It's chill because the sock thing has chilled me to the fucking core.

 

Excuse me sir, my ejaculate isn't sloppy. I produce only the finest crystals of pure concentrated manliness.

Good morning.

 

I have good news from the front lines of my ongoing hot chocolate war against the Barista. It seems that some of the building staff may have defected to my side. The other day, after the Barista had left, I infiltrated his coffee-making station as part of a covert operation to make a cup of hot chocolate. Having successfully breached the perimeter, I was partway through the process of deploying spoonfuls of hot chocolate powder from his main reserve tank to my mobile command mug, when disaster struck. A building staff patrol unit rounded the corner and spotted me - I had been caught red-handed! I readied myself for the inevitable onslaught of "Those supplies are for the Barista! Lower your spoon and step away from the mug!" but instead the staff member apologised for the inadequate hot chocolate supply in the kitchen, and allowed me to complete the mission and escape unharmed.

Do I have allies hidden among their ranks? Is the Barista losing his iron grip on his lackeys? Time will tell, dear friends. Time will tell...

Good morning.