Thursday, March 14, 2013

The curse of google-fu

Or why you will be ordered to do menial shit for Master when you have it

It was a glorious day and we kicked it off by going for a run. Well it was more of a slow stroll for the one of us, who was being kind to the body after the virus thing. To be frank one managed to crank it up to a pace any geriatric would have sneered at. We had breakfast together and started to get ready for work. Well one of us was going; the other was playing chauffeur at His usual perfectly reasonable rates.
And that was where the fun began...
Him finding something to wear

First off He had the trousers and the sneakers nailed and then he moved to the t-shirts...
That was where it all went horribly wrong really...
There are t-shirts in the wardrobe that the trousers were bought with in mind. Except somewhere between last week and this His body had dropped a t-shirt size. He is now too small for most of his large ones... unless the company who made them used that particular street urchin, who seems to be handed around amongst some of them as a size model... and too big for a medium
The whole thing is unfortunate 'cos all the t-shirts He has been waiting to wear... for years in a couple of cases... peers around furtively and whispers 15 years those things have been taking up space... are now too big. He sort of missed that boat... or it missed him to be more precise.

That was why one spent the evening tracking down a particular t-shirt all over the net
You know this whole slave thing is far more glamorous than people realise. Mutters can't imagine why it isn't more popular K

5 comments:

ancilla_ksst said...

Oh yes, glamor is of course our middle name as slaves.

Oh, wait, no, that would be princesses. Dang it, how did I get at the wrong end of it anyway?

lil said...

On the bright side, there weren't actually any sneering geriatrics present...Did I ever mention the time that the old lady on oxygen put me to shame, or did I keep that secret where it belongs...

Master's piece said...

@lil Don't remember that... link please?

lil said...

Ahem, well this might be one memory that I was actually smart enough Not to post on the blog.

In my defense, I was 8 months pregnant and had managed to pack on 60 pounds in the 8 months (stellar defense huh).

Was at the gym on the treadmill, and this lady who had to be in her 70's and was undeniably hooked up to oxygen was there when I got there. And she kept going faster. I swear I would slow down and she would give a little gasp and speed up.
SO I thought, well at least I'll outlast her right?
Ha. Damn woman was still going strong and smiling triumphantly when I gave up and waddled away 45 minutes later.
Then there was the guy with parkinsons who did thirty laps in the pool in the time it took me to do ten...
Real morale killer that.

Master's piece said...

LOL Oh dear... still there when you left... wipes tear away
Thanks that made one's morning much brighter :D