Oh look, the week ended. Good.

Day 67. 160 pages, 75,743 words. Fuck, that was crap.

Well, had an evening of moderate fun last night. That is to say, the evening itself was a great deal of fun (especially considering the direction this week has gone, great to end on a bit of a high note), but all things were exercised in moderation, on account of it being a Thursday and me being a) old and b) a workaday Joe. Although technically, workaday Hatboy.

Went out for dinner and drinks with three good friends to celebrate the milestone achievement of one of them – namely Gerry (who has starred on this blog many a time in the past), reaching twenty Goddamn years at the same company. Although technically not the same company, because it has changed hands about seven times during her tenure. The invention of the printing press really shifted the technical writing and localisation paradigm.


Anyway, a nice dinner, some amazing puns, a lot of mildly-offensive reminiscences about where we all were twenty Goddamn years ago, and a minor pub crawl back into the centre of town, and – as the only guy in a group with three other women – may I just say I have never talked so much about boobs in my life? Fake boobs, real boobs, the pencil test, boobs at the beach, boobs at the gym, implants on the elderly, the female midlife crisis (as relates to boobs) … actually, if I add at this point that it ended up not being all that titillating, you’re probably going to think I’m making a bad pun.

And you would be right!

And you would be right.

At one small drink per pub and only two pubs (three including the restaurant), shedding co-drinkers as we went, it wasn’t much of a crawl but much fun was had. At the end of it I checked my bus timetable and realised I had fifteen minutes to get from wherever-I-was to the central station to get my bus home, otherwise I would be stuck in town and probably another bar (and probably alone) for a further hour waiting for the next one and then I wouldn’t be home until after midnight and I had work in a few hours. My esteemed colleague Katy informed me that if I went down to the end of the street and hopped on a tram, I would be fine. Probably.

No tram seemed to be forthcoming so I gave up on the idea of getting a bus home before the wee small hours of the morning, and just strolled to the end of the street. That was when I realised I was in Sörnäinen, and could cut off the bus a few kilometres after it left the station, already well on the way home.

So that’s what happened, and I got home.

Nothing much more to add. Had a bit of downtime this morning because Microsoft updates apparently won’t work using Microsoft Internet Explorer (not my idea or anything I can affect, so MS/IE snobs please save your glayvens of disapproval), but otherwise ready to start the weekend with relative smoothness.


About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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