"I smacked that bitch up hard. So why is it Boxing Day then?"

You know that age old adage "You are what you blog?"
Which essentially makes me Henry and Beverly Hills 90210.

I so have no grip right now. I think i threw up and had a sausage roll.
-27th Nov 1:27am

Compared to his usual texts, which are complex masterpieces, this text, this text about throwing up, and then having a sausage roll plays on the simple concept of continuity, and in it's simplicity, is, in and of itself, a triumph of English literature.
I can only assume that when Henry texts, his fingers channel some pool of raw humanity that is off-limits to others. Here's what I mean:

Haha maybe. Or maybe i'll gag myself and then swallow my own vomit?
- 4th Nov 6:49pm

Henry's texts seem to revolve around common themes and although his prose tends to lie somewhere between Baroque and existential, with a tendency to be Neo-romantic at times, obvious influences would (presumably) include the more modern works of Sylvia Plath and Perfume. (citation needed)

If I started a story with "That three-year-old totally deserved it," would you listen?
- 2nd Nov 11:19am

Edit:

Remember when us men all went through that confusing phase of being inexplicably turned-on by Henry sticking it to the man and telling modern day working culture to go "choke on a chicken schnitzel"?
I can't speak for you ladies, (I will though) but I can imagine you kinda freaked your nuts off.
Well, Henry is taking his excessively charming self back into the workplace.
Here is his interesting (read: warped) take on the common practice of job interviews:

Interviewer 1: skinny Asian-looking chick. Late 20s. Last name White (Barry White?). Rootability scale: 7.5
- 1.13pm 23 Nov

Interviewer 2: mid 30s father-figure, fit, graying roots. Nice smile.
Rootability scale: 8.0
- 4:01pm 23 Nov

I thought it was about time I got off my arse and made some money... so I applied for two jobs on sunday. Got 2 callbacks for interviews the next day. 2 for 2. On tuesday. Isn't that a pizza hut deal?
- 4:03pm 23 Nov

You should all know by now that I live vicariously through Henry and I hoard his text messages in a religious and what probably seems like a sexually perverse manner. That is after all the only reason you read this excuse of a blog.

(Creepily) I've chronicled Henry's journey through the work place via his text messages.
The adventure begins in June 2010, and follows him right up to the point at which he quits in October. As you would expect, the cycle of employment resolves itself with Henry threatening god. Enjoy!



At the office, feeling sorry for my existence and those of my colleagues. Would it be okay if I just spat on people as they walk past my desk? Is that too subtle a message? Yeah you’re right.
25 Jun

Work was crantastic. I got to unpack boxes in the basement. I had my music on full blast, and then shuffled like a maniac. Are you picturing me shuffling solo in a basement yet?
30 Jun

Man, Perfume is the only thing getting me through the work day. God bless them.
20 Jul

Im pretending to be on the fone whilst listening to internet radio at work. What have you contributed to society since your Saturday night charade?
26 Jul

Lol my colleague gave me a whole box full of big red. This might have made him a very generous person had they not been expired for the last year and a half. I’m goin to finish the whole box and enjoy them, just to piss him off.
13 Sept

27 Sept Note: There was a text attached to this photo. Simply explaining that this was on Henry's desk when he came into work. I deleted the text like a complete dickfish.

In the workplace, respect is earned, obviously. Im gonna earn it by setting their kids on fire.

27 Sept

So i quit my job today. No one puts a fucking unicorn on MY desk. No one.
1 Oct

Thursday's my last day. They want to take me out for a farewell lunch. Fuckers, I hope they simultaneously choke on their chicken schnitzels and die.
11 Oct

Just for future reference, make sure to use boiling water for your next pool party. Office kitchen signs dont lie.
11 Oct

Do you know what the cunts gave me as a farewell present? A giant bag of instant noodles. And a card. My second farewell card from these inbred rednecks. Im gonna use this card to wipe my butt. Maybe I'll do that with the noodles too.
14 Oct

It doesn't matter what the card said. There was a rip on one side. A GOD DAMN RIP. I bet you someone did it on purpose. Im going to try and get a fingerprint analysis done. Find out who it is. And rip their fuckin hair off.
15 Oct


This is how god punishes lazy people. With mould.
I'll get you for this, god. I'll get you good.
18 Oct