- I travelled many miles on dreaded public transport from a much loved s.o.
- My journey lasted for too many hours
(I'm exaggerating for poetic purposes here as 'tis was an hour only, but hey, sixty minutes is sixty minutes and you could easily find yourself having a bitch of a time if members of the last forgotten SS commando troop were pulling your fingernails off or you were trapped under smelly bottoms of Norwegian trolls for sixty minutes).
- And a mere three minute walk away from my fake work I get a text from supervisor guy (who isn't fake at all) "Dead quiet here, take day off why don't you".
- So here I am with a couple of thebirkes and a frøsnapper, 70's blaxploitation from Marvel and sweeet toones on the stereo (Kaizer's Orchestra).
Hey, Nordic bliss (without penguins).
I first posted the above on Facie the other day but I thought you should have a chance to read it as well, oh you, my trusted and faithful blog reader.
In my post I avoided the too obvious joke of "Danish", but that's what it is. Danish pastries.
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