A few days ago, the motherbot decided to call me at work. As usual i expected it to be something along the lines of, “You *peep* why the *peep* isn’t the *insert electronic device here* you *insert expletive of choice here*”. Fate however, had something else in store for me:
You know you’re a good kid. You’ve principles, honesty and take pride in doing the right thing.
My only reply was a muted “ok” as i tried to process all of that at one go. Needless to say i was stunned, shocked and slightly beaming a smile that might have lasted all day if she didn’t call me 10 minutes later to ask me:
So it shows on FaceBook that I replied to a message I never knew I received. Did you hack into my FaceBook account?
And people wonder why i’m a walking contradiction. The proof is in the genes. Which appear to have been passed down in generous, all-you-can-eat buffet styled quantities.
Now Listening To: Saliva – Broken Sunday
So nice.
Conversations with my mum go a little like this:
“Hello Mama”
“Who’s this?”
At least the motherbot doesn’t call you, “You’re such a f*** in the a$$!”