Rumpa Rumpa Snort Rip

I’m reminded of a quote from The Simpsons:

“If I puked in a fountain pen and sent it to a monkey house, I’d get better scripts!”

Substitute “scripts” for “briefing notes” and you’ll be in the ballpark for how I’m feeling at the moment.

I just got out of work at 6:40pm wherein a spent the last two hours performing the, apparently, singular talent of constructing a sentence and holding it in my head long enough to type it on a screen.  For this I am paid ridiculously less than Directors and Managers.

Still things tend to balance in some form and for me it came in the form of this (also field test of the camera on the mobile).

A Stalking String Quartet is a worthy counterpart to early evening briefing note wrangling.  Seriously, they followed people while playing instruments which, considering one is a cello, is a feat worth boasting.  It’s times like these I find myself loving Brisbane.  And the Premier wants to move me and others in government away from this.

I’m a little disappointed in my employers tonight.

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