Monday, July 21, 2008

Stranded on the island of low standards

Mistress is so thoughtful. I ask her for something and she provides, one way or another. That might mean not at all or it might mean that I am left to solve my own problem however might seem best to me. This paricular time it meant that I was left in a slightly chilly state at the Ranch.

It wasn't all that productive really but Rachelle, sweetheart that she is, came for a visit and gave me some good advice. Her advice always seems to be so 'dead on balls accurate*.'

I had a bit of the same problem at the Ranch again, despite Rachelle's advice. The least conspicuously drenched in bad taste of the entire lot, in fact one of the few literate people there had a nice conversation with me and it didn't appear that she was just learing English. She spoke it quite well in fact. She was well dressed enough (for the Ranch at least) and had no visible bling. Then I asked her time zone... I was expecting either GMT or GMT + 1 but really held out hope for maybe Central or even PST (I don't know the initials for Central).

So I asked her (in that 'don't mean to be nosey' way of asking) what her time zone is. Australia! Gimme a break. It's like next week there already. Sheesh. I felt as bad for her as I was frustrated. It must be impossible to find anyone even near her time zone.

*Name the movie that line is from andyou win 1 Linden.

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