Wednesday, September 08, 2010

detox torture

Don’t mean to harp on about this liquid stool herbal ‘fix it all’ tea I’m drinking, but crisis on a Christmas cake.

It's really starting to wear me down.

I have to take a jar of the freshly brewed shit to work. Carrying around dung-coloured liquid in a jar on the train is one thing, (especially in a country where everyone eyes your jar like it's a potential terrorist tool), but I made the mistake of opening it up in a meeting yesterday.

'I think we should embargo the release until we know exac....'ang on...what's that smell?’

Oh sorry, it’s just this tea I’m drinking.

Rolling of eyes. What’s the weird South African up to now?

‘That could peel paint off a driveway, what are you doing?’

‘It’s my new...schtick.’

I then spent the rest of the meeting talking to people with a facial expression exemplary of someone who’d just sucked on a lemon. Eyes closed, face in pained expression, nose scrunched, lips pursed.

I persist with boardroom meeting-speak, 'In lieu of this discussion, pan-consolidation of events spreadsheets sounds like a strong action item,’ where the face doesn’t match the words coming from my scrunched up mouth.

I made my flatmate – he that I don’t understand – taste some.
'S'focken brutal lass.’

He went outside, thereafter, I believe, to throw a cat/take a little yack in our tomatoes.

Which is, evidently, where I place the gigantic, stinking teabag, after stewing it on the hob each night.

I’m thinking:
1) Either we’ll grow amazing Jack & The Beanstalk-type tom’s
2) Or; we’ll grow some very anti-indigenous alien Chinese plants

I made the Ozzie smell it.

‘It smells alroight.’

‘Taste it. Taste it now.’

‘...[pause]...[brevity crumbles]...Mate, that was deegusteeng. I smashed eet and eet was foul.'

Yeah, and I have to drink this for three months. Twice a fucking day, infidels.

Wait till the Brit gets back. He’s not going to like this.

It’s honestly the most appalling thing I’ve ever had to consume.

And I need to the world to know it.


Potbelly said...

O.M.G. This is freaking hilarious! I just burst out laughing in office, which had my boss coming in to see why I was laughing so hard(and nearly fell out of my chair)! Good luck with the tea drinking...feed some more to the other fellow so that he can make the tomatoes grow big and strong!

Revolving Credit said...

Liquid on a train?
You been smuggling urine samples haven't you?? Would explain the smell and the utter disgust at you drinking it in the boardroom.

So you really were pulling the piss...hahaha!

Peas on Toast said...

potbelly - bless, can I interest you in a cuppa tea? :)

Rev - why hello there revvo! Long time big guy! Yip, you've got me - I'm drinking my own urine.


Methinks my own urine would be strawberries and cream in comparison! :)

tsetse fly said...

You have made my research on blogs and getting-up-at-5am experience a humorous one... my first initial comment was much more in depth and rather a cracker upper (not too float my own boat, but whatever does right?) After much struggle to create a password and account and whatever the fudge is needed to comment,my content in the comment box magically disintegrated to the big black nothingness where all lost words of value seem to go... good morning from your native country and congrats with your awards... ALSO good luck with your brew,bru. (PS this was my FIRST EVER blog)