709, that's me. I have forsaken name and identity and become another figure in the corporate world. All that is important about me is written on a yellow time card which I have to remember to slip into a machine every morning and every night.
I am beginning to forget everything about the outside world. All day I type words and figures into the database, recording the results of a survey of workers from a large Australian company:
You people are a joke
I included a personal phone number in the last survey and you didn't call me. Why didn't you call me?
No one ever acts on these surveys anyway.
A. is a good place to work...
I hate my supervisor
Don't worry. All the results filled out on the survey will either by ignored or fed into the paper-shredder. And I will soon have forgotten the English language and speak in a new, clean, corporate language consisting solely of numbers.
Actually, just between you and me, I do have a thing for the cute little office worker a few desks behind me. Her name is 467.
467, I just met a girl called 467,
And suddenly a name
Will never be the same to me,
467, 467, 467.
See you later. Er, I mean, 38745879549.57.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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- Poetry 24
- Superlative scribbles
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- Rorrim a tsomla almost a mirror
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- Too hot to Raaaaaaandallllllll!
- Erin's Excellently Everlasting Effervescements!
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- Hail Paco!
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- The Bolta. Aiyeeeeee!!!!!
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- A Zemblanian abroad and at home
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- THE SLAMMA!
- Jottlesby's nottings, or should that be Nottlesby's jottings?
- The Snarking of the Hunt
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- Be an Opinion Dominion Minion!
- ... and Fel
- His brilliant career - from whale sushi to crumbed prawn
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- Yet another Tim
- Was two peas, now three peas
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- Red in the land of the tigers!
- Wire of Vibe
- Chase him, ladies, he's in the cavalry!
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- Old Sterne
- The briefs...
- ... and the brieflets
- The Purple Blog
- Blairville, lair of all that is wicked and perfidious
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- EXTREEEEEEEME WYNTER!
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- Lexicon the Mexican
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