anatomy of a tard, finale.

i’m leaving my job and therefore leaving the tard – but don’t worry. she still is.

exhibit g: the redbull diet.

a can for breakfast. a can in the afternoon. crisps for lunch. need i say more? actually, one more. she just came out of hospital – surgery no less (i do know, and its not something suitable for reading – rhymes with schmovarian mist). second day back at work – back on the ol’ diet. her temperature fluctuates from “i’m freezing” to “i’m boiling” as a result. in our climate controlled office.

exhibit h: “obviously” “so…”.

“so the thing is obviously it has to be on this date. obviously thats the case and i’ve already told you that so… i realise that. yes, but if you’d let me finish. obviously we have to keep to our terms and conditions so…”

i die a little each time.


admittedly we’ve been getting on better since i announced the move.

but the unknown future rolls toward us. i face it, for the first time, with a sense of hope. because if a machine, a tard, can learn the value of human life, maybe we can too.


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