Corruption
I once had to grease a custom official's palm to get out of a foreign country, a wad of bank notes worth about 45p which went straight into his pocket. In fact, everybody on our flight had to, the thieving scrote. Talk to us about corrupt officials, or confess your own wrongdoing. We won't tell anyone.
Thanks to Ye of Little Faith for the suggestion
( , Thu 3 Jul 2014, 13:44)
I once had to grease a custom official's palm to get out of a foreign country, a wad of bank notes worth about 45p which went straight into his pocket. In fact, everybody on our flight had to, the thieving scrote. Talk to us about corrupt officials, or confess your own wrongdoing. We won't tell anyone.
Thanks to Ye of Little Faith for the suggestion
( , Thu 3 Jul 2014, 13:44)
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It's a mild form of corruption but it pissed me off all the same
My best friend all through primary school was a rather shy girl called Molly, who I stayed pretty close friends with when we moved up to high school. We'd catch the bus together, sit at the same table in the classes we had together and ate lunch together. It was the latter activity that saw the first signs of disharmony enter our relationship and stinking corruption rear its ugly head, for Molly had the good fortune to have an aunt working as a dinner lady.
There were those who mocked.."Ha ha, your Aunt's a dinner lady! Does your whole family dress in aprons and hold spoons!!" (Okay, so I can't quite remember the exact mocking that went on and I'm not very good at it myself), but all I saw were the benefits afforded Molly. Always the creamiest spoonful of mash, extra custard with pudding, a square of pizza from the center rather than a dry crusty corner piece. Sitting next to Molly in the dining hall the lime jelly was ALWAYS greener and all I could do was sit and brood over the lack of toad in my hole (STEADY!)
I'd like to say I led a food line revolution that struck fear into the hearts of canteen nepotism everywhere but I was far too busy cultivating the sense of muted indignation (with a side order of tutting and glaring) that has served me well in British society ever since.
( , Wed 9 Jul 2014, 11:08, 3 replies)
My best friend all through primary school was a rather shy girl called Molly, who I stayed pretty close friends with when we moved up to high school. We'd catch the bus together, sit at the same table in the classes we had together and ate lunch together. It was the latter activity that saw the first signs of disharmony enter our relationship and stinking corruption rear its ugly head, for Molly had the good fortune to have an aunt working as a dinner lady.
There were those who mocked.."Ha ha, your Aunt's a dinner lady! Does your whole family dress in aprons and hold spoons!!" (Okay, so I can't quite remember the exact mocking that went on and I'm not very good at it myself), but all I saw were the benefits afforded Molly. Always the creamiest spoonful of mash, extra custard with pudding, a square of pizza from the center rather than a dry crusty corner piece. Sitting next to Molly in the dining hall the lime jelly was ALWAYS greener and all I could do was sit and brood over the lack of toad in my hole (STEADY!)
I'd like to say I led a food line revolution that struck fear into the hearts of canteen nepotism everywhere but I was far too busy cultivating the sense of muted indignation (with a side order of tutting and glaring) that has served me well in British society ever since.
( , Wed 9 Jul 2014, 11:08, 3 replies)
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