What a shaftbreakular day for the Horse of Horror.
It all began as usual these days, with a poor night of micro-snoozes. I may have to write a complaint to the housing office regarding new tenant Dinohorse. She sings and plays her tribal music far far too loud at night!
I'll plot a little veangeance against her for the future. Not just yet however as we're expecting good things any day now from Mini Goruguay and I'm not to distract her from her meditative techniques.
But I shall not forget these glorious days Dinohorse..
Having risen late in the morn, I missed my breakfast, put on the first two pairs of shoes that I could find and gallopped out to work at Sticky Stallion Adhesive Logistics.
I left my security pass in my nosebag at the stables.. gah!
But Binfisher Benjamin let me in when I clopped on the window for a while. I claimed I was doing it for much longer than I actually was.. so it looked like I wasn't so late. Have to set a good example to the less competent employees after all.
Work was the usual drag, reducing my days to mere skeletons of their former selves. I got so bored of gutting criminal horses and melting their fat into glue. Even their raw taste was starting to wane. In fact I realised that I was getting pretty bad at my work.. Time for a holiday?
I asked what the others had booked for theirs and we're too low staffed for me to just bolt and leave for relaxant destinations.. especially after the Slay-Offs I made last month- that was such an excellent and stabtacular time! But I'm paying the price now.
Instead I made a snake out of a large envelope and named him Nigel Velope. He got coloured in green and pink with TipEx fangs.
He is awful and I am ashamed. A paper snake. What is that good for? It can't even scare anybody. So I filled it with shit and sent it to Asomvel.
The day dragged and gnarled itself against time's wooden, splintered floor.
But closing time came and away I went. Then it all went wrong.
I should have checked my horse shoes before heading out this morning.
My bionic front pair broke down and set alight. Thunderous hooves I may have, but thats just a metaphor right?So my small equine feet got a torching so heated that Dr Headmund would've charged serious Goros for such a treatment!
After treading in the glorious autumnal snow, the coolant created such a steam...
Unluckily for me I was stood beneath a windmill, which took note of the heavy rising hot water.
The fans began to turn.. faster and stabbier.. I lost my remaining shoes.
I was lifted from the floor and flung to South Goruguay..!
Putrid country. Home of the tyrant Gore Don. A good friend. Doesn't understand Northern humour though.. Maybe thats why the war really started? We both love a good fight though.
Anyway I'm not especially welcome in the southern states so I had to call for recovery.
I stood hoofless for 77minutes before the Goretomobile Association retrieved me.. So glad I picked up a membership at that service station in Port Pie last year.
And with another sleepless night ahead I close tonight's entry, shoeless, hungry and cold.. without a single slay.
Bless the Dinohorse. You are the only reason I haven't sold that fistulent business of mine.
But life is good. Her music is loud.. but pretty rhythmic and catchy. I find myself singing along as I type..
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