Living Life on the Edge

I dont know about you, but there are often times in my day-to-day where I think "yeah, Im hardcore" (mostly when I think about my blog. Blogs are hadcore. 50 Cent probably has one, and he is a full on gangsta). I had one such experience yesterday. Two actually. Wednesday morning I dropped my good suit and shirt off at the Dry Cleaners, because I needed it for a meeting Thursday. So Luigi tells me it wont be ready til Thursday morning...Thats cool Luigi, see you then. So Thursday morning I shower as normal, and then realise I don't know what to put on, given that I'm going to pick up my suit on the way to work. So I dress in panties, footy shorts and a singlet and head off on my journey. I arrive at Luigi's where my suit is waiting, clean and proud, alongside its old mate, my shirt. I then explain to Luigi that since he couldnt clean my garments earlier, I now need a place to change into my 'bag o fruit' as they call it. Luigi wasn't particularly keen, but eventually led me to around behind the clothes racks, where I made the transformation into respectable Riley. Whats more, Luigi had to tie my tie for me! That ladies and gentlemen, is called being hardcore. I bet 50 Cent doesn't even get changed at the dry cleaners. I live life on the edge, in the danger zone, and I'm indicating right now to get into the fast lane. The second instance of me being totally radical and bodacious occured at the end of my meeting in Tullamarine yesterday. Events concluded about 2:30, and I made the executive decision that I wouldnt be returning to the office for the remainder of the day. I drove straight past work at about 3:24pm, with plenty of time to go back and do an hour or two of work, but no, I am a rebel. An outlaw, a hardcore type person. I bet 50 Cent doesnt even do that. Yes, I'm tough.
Shove it.