Seems most people are thoroughly sensible. I drift off to stuff from outside work initially then get onto things I'd rather be doing which tends to involve that unspeakable but rather enjoyable thing I did with someone once upon a time.
a bit like Dux, I dream of getting a wild card into Wimbledon and defeating Serena Williams in a first round shock - actually by being so crap that she is really confused. The older I get, the less likely this is to happen,.
also, if I win Euromillions, I wish to re-train as a jockey, as I am the same height as Frankie dettori, but weigh less than he does.
I'm on the family estate. After an unfortunate accident (or series thereof) in which my elder siblings their dear children and their dear, dear children in turn have tragically passed away and through no fault or design that can be tied to me at least not through currently accepted forensic techniques the big house is finally mine. The workers are respectful and appreciative of the good living we provide. There is no such thing as global warming (really, not just because we need to maintain a massive PR budget to claim otherwise) . Our overseas holdings are profitable and humanely administered (relative to what the natives could otherwise expect - of which they too are respectful and appreciative or so I am assured by the dour but trustworthy Presbyterian Scotsman to whom I have delegated these things). The creditors are occupied with more pressing matters. Our converted Short Sunderland purrs on the estuary ready to go anywhere in the world at a moments notice. In the library I am plotting new adventures, the wife enters with a pair of smoking 12 bores over each shoulder and a wickedly lascivious smile on her face...
Huh? What? Remuneration policy? I'm worth every bloody penny. I mean "The company operates in a global market place and if we are to attract the best talent..."....
Eh? Errr, um . Stop poking me. ah. Yes. No. I mean (pull yourself together. Jesus how can I bullshit through this? Ah yes!) ahem.
"I do not have that information available to me at the moment" . "Yes, yes I will. Of course. Yes. Immediately."
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Oh I can't say
*blushes*
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Usually drift off to thinking about something totally unsuitable to help pass the time.
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Usually me bossing the world Laz-style in some way: winning the Derby, becoming a world-famous novelist, etc
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Tongue punching Katy Perry’s sweaty fart box.
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most people daydream about bossing the world
I often think about skateboarding like tony hawk
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that's lovely Wibble.
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Seriously underrated thread.
Been a while since I saw tongue punching or fart box on ROF.
Me: I tend to move to the next meeting or topic in my head after max 10 to 15 mins so I just zoom out.
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Seems most people are thoroughly sensible. I drift off to stuff from outside work initially then get onto things I'd rather be doing which tends to involve that unspeakable but rather enjoyable thing I did with someone once upon a time.
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For me the challenge is often actually staying awake.
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heh, yeah, clutching the chair if possible, eyes wide open, breathing consciously
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a bit like Dux, I dream of getting a wild card into Wimbledon and defeating Serena Williams in a first round shock - actually by being so crap that she is really confused. The older I get, the less likely this is to happen,.
also, if I win Euromillions, I wish to re-train as a jockey, as I am the same height as Frankie dettori, but weigh less than he does.
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and it would be really fun and fast.
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I used to imagine the people I didn’t like in the room dying in nasty ways.
Also has one fantasy about a particular female lawyer dismissing everyone else, locking the door and then... yeah you get the idea. Mmmm.
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Oh. Judy's a spinner! That can occupy my thoughts next dull meeting
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I usually just imagine the guy on the other side in his boxers.
Disgusting, but it helps to reduce the sting of what he is saying.
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I'm on the family estate. After an unfortunate accident (or series thereof) in which my elder siblings their dear children and their dear, dear children in turn have tragically passed away and through no fault or design that can be tied to me at least not through currently accepted forensic techniques the big house is finally mine. The workers are respectful and appreciative of the good living we provide. There is no such thing as global warming (really, not just because we need to maintain a massive PR budget to claim otherwise) . Our overseas holdings are profitable and humanely administered (relative to what the natives could otherwise expect - of which they too are respectful and appreciative or so I am assured by the dour but trustworthy Presbyterian Scotsman to whom I have delegated these things). The creditors are occupied with more pressing matters. Our converted Short Sunderland purrs on the estuary ready to go anywhere in the world at a moments notice. In the library I am plotting new adventures, the wife enters with a pair of smoking 12 bores over each shoulder and a wickedly lascivious smile on her face...
Huh? What? Remuneration policy? I'm worth every bloody penny. I mean "The company operates in a global market place and if we are to attract the best talent..."....
Eh? Errr, um . Stop poking me. ah. Yes. No. I mean (pull yourself together. Jesus how can I bullshit through this? Ah yes!) ahem.
"I do not have that information available to me at the moment" . "Yes, yes I will. Of course. Yes. Immediately."
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