After two unhappy landowners accuse Greg for laughing at them and not taking them seriously...
They leave, and he complains to our secretary.
“Do I look like I’m laughing? I must be the happiest person on the planet. They kept telling me to stop laughing. Am I a laugher?” Greg asks exasperatingly
Darlene suppresses a snicker. “You’re definitely not a laugher.”
“A laugher. I mean, come on”, he moans. “It must be my …fat cheeks, or something.”
The very last thing I wanted to do today was to stay indoors. Today was a beautiful, crisp morning with no shortage of sun. I just wish I could have stayed outside, maybe reading a book, writing, passing the ball around with Bab, or simply cycling around. Alas.
I just wrote an entire entry on wasted potential and drab lives, but I couldn't structure it in a way that I was satisfied with it. So, this is what you get instead:
Yes, that is a picture of a piercing blue-eyed Gilles Duceppe. He looks quite fetching, no?