Oh dear God no

[hentzau]

Started back at Rutherford today. Same old schtick, but one of the other casuals said I looked like Agent Smith from the Matrix.

Fantastic.

Hilariously, I bunked off work for a little bit (the benefit of having worked there for years is that I know exactly how to wangle myself extra paid breaks) so that I could drop by Tanglewood to check that they

Comments

[hentzau]

See, from this I have concluded that you and Jen are, at heart, optimists. You see a free holiday. I on the other hand see the impending horror of having to give a talk, after which I will be asked difficult questions and made to look like a buffoon.

(If you're planning on giving the response I think you are, be advised that it will in fact go "But Hentzau, you already look like a buffoOH GOD MY TORSO, MY BEAUTIFUL TORSO".)

[hentzau]

The talk's no problem really. I've given a lot of them (remember the penis-and-death-star one? That was no trial at all, although I made the usual mistakes). The problem is I always, always get destroyed on the questions, usually because nobody really understands what the hell I'm doing and thus asks about stupid stuff that I've never even considered. Thinking about it though, that might not be such a problem this time around. They'll probably just make them hideously complicated instead.

I can find the cloud in any silver lining ¬_¬

[_jenjen_]

"I can find the cloud in any silver lining ¬_¬"

You really can, can't you?!

Anyway, you look nothing like Agent Smith from The Matrix, and you already know how I feel about the awesome free trip to Spain. Personally I think you should just read out the Wiki entry for the Kuiper Belt and see if anybody notices. I mean, it's not a great plan, it would just amuse me.

[hentzau]

"Anyway, you look nothing like Agent Smith from The Matrix"

No. No. Stop. You have already impugned my withering stare and called me cute and fluffy. Just leave me this one thing, would you?

[_jenjen_]

No. My main aim in life is destroying your every source of pride until you are left a broken, dithering wreck of a man. I like you, don't get me wrong, but I have to get my kicks somehow.