It's vanity, you sexy bitch!

Alright, internet?

Tomorrow, work will be different. I can see it now. I'll get up and beautify myself more than ever. Then I'll rollerskate to work blasting techno at the innocent and forcefeeding them Jerry Cornelius novels, I'd explain to them in a very patronising manner that I am smarter than them and then ask vague questions like "Why are you here?"

The walk only takes about 15 minutes (I'll allow myself 25 though, injecting my new lifestyle into people might take a little while.) But then I'll arrive at the office and I'll kick the door down to reveal myself glammed up like nothing before. Full make up with green and blue shimmering eyeshadow and pink lipstick. A bright yellow Flying V held over my awesome waiste length summer dress. Under this, I will probably where some drainpipes and black cowboy boots.

The intensity of my rock and roll haircut will cause the new guy (tomorrow will be his first day) to freak out and quit. "How did he get such mat texture and hold? Is that his real colour? it's so messy yet so shiny and awesome." He will undoubtably say to himself.

At this point I start my lecture on how to effectively 'fuck the system' which will be demonstrated in the form of a rave anthem, composed at my desk with a loop player and a microkorg.

Then I'll probably throw a TV out of the window and then engage in various occult activities.

After that, I'll have to do some work though.