Jesus Christ! It’s Easter again! It’s like it comes round every year or something. You all know what this means? That’s right (or maybe wrong, if you were thinking of something other than what I was thinking), Royal Mail is having a break from striking and is actually having a legally sanctioned few days off. Thusly, there will be no postal pick-ups tomorrow and none on Monday either.
We have a skeleton crew coming in on Saturday to try and keep up with everything, but calling is probably not a good idea as the few of us who are in will be running around the warehouse like laboratory mice in a maze, and we haven’t even been injected with crazy experimental drugs. Not today anyway.
So we will be fully functional again once we have finished celebrating Jesus Christ and the goal he scored against Hamburg in the 1973 European Cup semi-final, which should be around-a-bouts Tuesday 6th.
My apologies if this stopping of being around causes any inconvenience. If you wish to complain, then do feel free to consult our Lord Who Art In Heaven and ask if he wouldn’t mind dying at a more convenient hour next time.
Cheers everyone. Have a really fucking good time, I insist. In fact, if you have just a fucking good time, or, Jesus forgive me, just a good time, then you fail and you are a failure. Anyone who has a really, really, really fucking good time is going to be well-in with that ancient beardy dude who raised some bread, lured the thick and found his sozzled mate Lazarus passed-out in a bush after going for a piss. Oh, the stories they told about that one.
“Lazo, you pisshead. What the fuck are you doing in that bush? I nearly pissed on you. Everybody at the party thinks you’re dead. Come on, grab hold of me and I’ll bring you back.”
“Okay, but why are you waving your arms around and tapping your feet in irregular fashion?”
“Because I move in mysterious ways.”