I don't have that much time, the sub-atomic raspberries are mutating into Estate Agents as we speak. There are radishes all around me, and the iron board has left home, again.
You may think that it sounds like just another typical Friday, but this time it is different - because (and you had better sit down while I say this) today is not Friday!
Calm down!
Calm down!
Tearing your favourite social worker into shreds like that is not going to help anyone, let alone the friends and relatives of… well, of what remains of the social worker.
Hang on, I'll go and get a dustpan and brush.
I know it is not Friday! After all, it was me who told you. There is no need to get into a panic. Here hold this apricot and put a pair of recently-worn knickers taken from a notorious celebrity over your head and take deep breaths.
That's it.
Now, count up to 17.345 in Flemish…. Slowly.
See, that's better isn't it?
Oh. Now… er… hang on a minute.
Let me… er… just go and check the calendar.
Er… well, I've just checked and it turns out that it is a Friday after all.
I know. I know. I'm sorry. Very sorry. Yes, it does seem that the Social Worker did die in vain, but I've apologised, haven't I?
Yes. Yes. In future, I will check the calendar before I open my big stupid mouth again. Yes.
Is that it now? Are you going to shut up about it? It was a simple mistake, anyone could have made. I've apologised and, as far as I'm concerned, that is the end of the matter.
Good night.
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