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The office is empty. They call it 'skeleton staff'. Why is it empty? Because everyone's still somewhere else. Havin a good time. Winding down from their havinagoodtimes, but nonetheless, still havin them.
So where is everyone? At some mountain retreat? Some beach? A shopping haven? A tour bus? An airport? A sleazy bar? A disco hall? A transvestite strip joint?
As for me, I'm here in the plush comfort of my office chair, flanked by two beautiful Hawaiian girls. One massages my neck and back while the other pours me endless servings of blue-coloured drinks with umbrellas on them. And if I so much as snap my finger, both will go, in unison, "Mr Pirate, what else can I do to please your handsome face?", and they immediately break into a sexy hula dance while waiting for my impending request.
Why do they do that, you ask. It's because they're trained to keep me happy even before I tell them how to keep me happy. And this is me at the office. Wait till I tell you about my holiday.
Weezer - Holiday (track 9 from The Blue Album)
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