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Wednesday, November 19, 2003

My pet hate


God, why oh why do men (and it is usually men) whistle? More to the point, why does that irritating sh!te of a man who sits opposite me insist on whistling, just as I am in deep concentration on something? It is the most annoying thing in the world - whatever you are doing, it has the ability to completely pierce through your armour. When I used to work in America, there was another irritating sh!te who used to go talk to the bloke in the next cubicle in a whisper. He could never understand that a whisper makes your ears prick up, and you strain to listen. If he talked in a normal tone, I would have just tuned him out and never heard a thing he said.

But the whistling is even worse. Couple that with the enormous 3 o'clock sneeze, and you can appreciate how much I am looking forward to moving desks! Which is happening this weekend. Hooray!

And the following week 'Eye Candy' as he is now known in the office starts work. I am so going to be hit with a sexual harassment case. Unless, as this bloke I used to work with said when I said if he continued with the flirty comments I could sue him for sexual harassment replied "It's not harassment if you enjoy it". I had no comeback on that one!

On a plus note, D is back in the office today after moving house over the weekend, so I have my lunch buddy back! And the swine is going to see The Strokes in Amsterdam next month! I am jealous! However, he does have one annoying habit - he takes the last syllable of a word, and prefixes it with 'The'. As in he is going to see THE Strokes (okay, he can get away with that one) in THE dam. And last week he asked me how THE bow tasted - meaning my pint of cider! Going to drive me mad, slowly, that one I reckon!

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