i hanged david’s head (w/o the rest of his body) 2 days before valentines

david and i, after 5 minutes of arguing through the telephone about why we haven’t spoke the entire saturday, agreed to blame this unfortunate event to my crappy network (it wasn’t entirely my crappy network. his bloody mobile phone was also off the whole time i was trying to call him and i do not like answering machines. hmmn, i wonder if there is a story worth pursuing here…).  anyway, like the railway system or the educational system, the telecommunications of United Kingdom is way, way better than in a third world country like mine.  that is, of course, the british arrogance speaking.  i have no problem with that, though; UK is better in almost everything than the Philippines.  and to possibly get mad about the truth is just plainly ridiculous. 

and so we kissed and made up and he promised he’ll give me company while i finish my deliverables, of which i was nowhere near completion.  i promised my cfo the goods even if i have to work over the weekend for this and although he did mention, offhand,  he will also “sort of” work over the weekend- after or before golf-, he didn’t.  i knew he didn’t because he would have found in his inbox emails from me every hour confirming “this” or “that”.  but, obviously, i cannot fire him because i do not have the authority nor can i refuse to deliver the goods in the grounds that he was not being a man of his word because he might fire me instead.  besides, i must remind myself he never twitch everytime i inform him i am leaving office early because i am going scuba diving. 

the rule between me and my boss is simple: deliver the goods on timeso, yes, he can play golf on the weekends, and i can leave office early for scuba diving.

when david says he is going to give me company, it means we will be fixated on each other until his cable starts showing either a cricket match or  the lost series.  that, or until i doze off on him or the isc scrabble game gets more interesting than his pale english face.  work has no space to squeeze into, you see, so i was not really surprised that after we said goodbye at 7am my time, i didn’t get any work done at all.

however, we had fun with the sketch board.  david, having been teaching in one of ’em middle schools in the UK for 10 years, knows a lot of childish games (among other things, he would sometimes scold me as if i was his student.  no offense to him, though, there are times my emotional maturity is that of a 8-year old kid).  he asked me to scribble anything on the sketchboard, and so i did this:


 and quite surprisingly, he was able to turn it into something like this:


i gave him 9.5 points over 10, not minding he was giving me suceeding 5/10 scores when it was my turn to turn his scribbles into a drawing (i did insist it looked like a dog and the second one was a blender with a yellow glass, but his vision is 20/20 and i have 175/200 and my drawing does suck).

i kicked his ass in hangman, though.  or putting it correctly, i hanged his head along with his neck and his hands.


who the hell cannot guess the benchwarmers?

i told david afterwards that i find the series in which you hang the man in this game twisted.  the man must be made to stand with his body parts intact first before you put the rope around his neck.  logically, it didn’t really result into a positive note that he guessed “the benchwarmers” only after his head (along with his arms) was torn between the rest of his body and hanged like a human meat as in a quentin tarantino film. 

i do not like it.   seriously.

“you’re the one who is twisted, honey, to be thinking of such horrid things.” he said and laughed.

but hey, he loves me.  ask him.


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