There’s still plenty to do in Sydney to make the most of your holidays:
1. Drink alcohol at home.
2. Join your local 1% motorcycle club.
3. Drink alcohol at the pub.
4. $10 hits on Big Red.
5. Drink alcohol on a park bench.
6. Have an affair.
7. Drink alcohol for breakfast.
8. Worry about going back to work.
9. Drink methylated spirits.
Now get out there and enjoy!
Billions of Sydneysiders have returned to work today feeling refreshed hatred for their jobs after experiencing two weeks of life outside the office.
One man said he’d always known going to work was “balls”, but that after enjoying such luxuries as seeing his wife and kids and eating lunch away from his keyboard over the Christmas break, he’d realised just how bad his working life was.
“The holidays showed me that life could actually be rather good if you removed the work bit,” he said. “My hatred for what I do and the people I do it with has been fully reinvigorated over the break.”
One woman said she’d spent the last fortnight of her two-week break in a constant panic attack, fearing her return to the office.
“The only thing getting me through is that there are only 50 weeks to go until next Christmas,” she said.
Chemists are taking advantage of today’s spike in Christmas-party hangovers by charging dull-eyed customers up to $300 for a single tablet of Berocca.
One office worker who has yet to go to bed after enjoying “a few beers” at his Christmas party, which began yesterday morning and continued on into the afternoon, evening and then morning again, said he was being exploited by his local pharmacy.
“They’re the worst type of drug dealers,” the bloody-nosed man said. “But with my only other option being cutting my head off to dull the pain, I had to pay up.”
Another office workers who overdid things by a Penrith mile said he refused to pay his legal drug dealer for the mild relief.
“I’m just going to keep drinking and never stop,” he said. “That way I’ll never have a hangover again.”
Shares in Berocca tablets are set to rival the rise of cryptocurrency Bitcoin, according to early reports.
It’s been a nerve-shattering start to an office Christmas party today as colleagues begin guessing and probing each other to discover who has a bag of white Christmas.
One staffer said he was living on an edge harder than anything Aerosmith ever sang about.
“I had to have about 70 or so schoons of port before the event even started to sand down the corners a bit,” he said. “I started with joking-yet-deadly-serious quips about whose nose was thirsty, but I ended up just straight out asking ‘do you have some cocaine for me to smell with my nose?’.”
Staffers who came packing bagged heat said the tension was even worse for them.
“About 12 people followed every time I went to the bathroom attempting to get a nose bite,” one man said. “It was like when the fish are on, and you have to hide behind a rock to bait your hook.”
Management of the company said it would try to avoid the tension next year by bumping the Kris Kringle limit to $300 and hoping everyone gets the idea of what to buy each other.
Trying to prove himself smarter than everyone else, a local Sydney man can’t stop telling everyone he has only bet $2 on the Melbourne Cup this year “for a bit a harmless fun”.
No one is quite sure why the man is so proud of placing the kind of bet your nana used to put on for you when you were at school.
“This reverse humble brag technique he’s going for makes him simply unrelatable,” one man said. “Most Australians have taken out Nimble loans for this special day that are so substantial we’ll have to hit the road and live in Asia for a few years if we don’t win.”
People who have had to endure previous Melbourne Cup events with the man said he still gets very stressed out during the race.
“He’s sweats bullets during the race,” one man said. “But unlike the rest of us, he’s praying his horse doesn’t win, so he doesn’t feel like an idiot for only punting $2. It’s no way to live.”
The man is also telling everyone that he will only be drinking sparkling water to celebrate the day’s festivities and won’t have a party pie as he brought a salad in from home.
The government has issued a scam warning today cautioning workers across Australia to ignore bosses who tell them to enjoy the Melbourne Cup and not worry about doing any work this afternoon.
Unfortunately, it has been confirmed that this is a known scam and your boss will still demand the work you were meant to be doing first thing tomorrow morning in a hangover-induced rage, between shouting contradictory catchphrases like “work doesn’t stop for the Melbourne Cup, pal”.
A Sydney man said he fell for this scam last year.
“When I arrived at work on Tuesday my boss gave me 20 or so jobs due the next morning,” the man said.
“So, I was going to spend the afternoon in the office until my boss strolled in after a liquid lunch, called me Un-Australian, and to immediately join him at the pub. He even informed me that he’d already put $350 on his own nose.”
“But first thing the next morning he demanded the work, even though he knew I was hanging with him in the bathroom and sometimes the pub for the whole afternoon.”
The man was swiftly fired.
A Sydney man who accomplished nothing over the weekend has woken up early this morning to brainstorm exciting stories to tell people at work when they ask what he got up to.
“I spent the entire weekend home alone boozing, playing video games and eating,” the man said. “People who leave the house make my weekend sound a bit pointless, so I thought I’d go in to work prepared with some fake stories of barbecues and Tinder dates to make me sound relevant. I even fake checked in to a restaurant over the weekend.”
The man isn’t alone, with 90 per cent of people inventing stories about their weekends to make themselves appear more normal and interesting to co-workers, according to a CSIRO study, which found that the entire exercise was based on the misconception that people who ask about colleagues’ weekends actually listen to the response.
“People can prevent weekend-performance anxiety by understanding that nobody cares what you did,” a CSIRO researcher said. “It’s a rhetorical question, like asking someone how their treatment is going.”