Demon Ducks of Doom

I’m in a bad mood. Don’t really know why. But I am.
Even the discovery of fossilised carnivorous ducks & a killer kangaroo down under failed to cheer me up. Ok, my job is crap at present. But its easy & well paid and I think I have engineered a sideways move off project deep kack and into a nice metrics role. Sexy numbers. So its not that.

And back at the money pit that is chez rich all progresses. The garden is coming along, The roof has not come down & the budget is tight but not yet blown. The social calendar is booked every weekend until October. The sun shines. Life is pretty good.

But I’m still in a bad mood.

Ok. In part it is having my mate Gary the dwarf staying. The idea was that he took this opportunity to sort out his life. But instead he’s using it as a chance to do fuck all for a bit longer. The promises of doing voluntary work, investing in property, travelling the world, etc were so much hot air & instead he spends his days watching living TV. Which is a bit off pissing when you get home from a day in the office. Indeed, the other Sunday after a beer too many I blew up and told him what a useless waste of space he was. And realised afterwards that it had been his birthday & I had forgotten it entirely. Ok, a bit of guilt there. Still, on the plus side he said he’d move out. Of course there is no sign of that actually happening. So I’m feeling a bit that my space has been invaded. But Chez rich is pretty big, & the refuge that is the crown is always available. So it doesn’t really account for my present mood.

Which is bad. I’m in a bad mood.
But Scientists have dug up fossils of giant carnivorous ducks. And called them the demon ducks of doom. So it’s a tad less bad than it was.