I love when you have a day at work when even the managers don’t give a fuck anymore.
I especially love it when they ask to see your friends tattoos, and don’t think you are weird when you tell them that its 20p for the front ones and a £1 for the back ones.
I love when Friday in the office is so silly and everyone is not being their usual cuntyselves. Maybe it helps that the sun is shining outside, that we are nearly at 11am, that I’ve had some drugs this morning (flu drugs Mother, not crack!) or maybe today is actually not as shitty as other days have been recently.
Or maybe its just nice to be told you are “a racy woman”. I’ll take that and wear it with pride bitches.