How to get a-head in business
While I was flogging mortgages I had a fucking useless boss named Lynn who looked like a pasty-skinned Mekon wearing a Slash wig. I spent ages trying to figure out why this woman who was scared of operating a calculator was in charge of a bunch of fuckwits who had to crunch numbers all day for a living. To compensate for her inability to do absolutely anything fucking right, she’d regularly go on a mentalist power trip rampage and managed to completely fuck off every fucker in the fucking department, the fucker... Overtime – cancelled. Holidays – cancelled. Lunchbreaks – cancelled. In short, she was was a fucking cunt.

Then on a team building works night out Lynn got really, really, really drunk and spilled the beans. I think she was trying it on with me, but I didn’t fancy adding another lady-who-looks-like-an-alien to my dis(honour) list, not after the Greek girl I fucked in Uni who – when I got her cloths off – actually resembled a fucking big-titted Wookie. Anyway, after that brief drunken conversation with Lynn it all suddenly made perfect sense.

A few days later Lynn and I were running a client meeting; it was going tits up, as these things tend to do when you’ve got someone who’s incompetent, my boss, and someone who’s far too fucking lazy to prepare a proper presentation, me. The clients looked bored and uninterested. I looked bored and hungover. Lynn was fidgeting as if she had a super-sized blood sucking mutant space crabs infestation going on in her knickers. She pulled me to one side and whispered:

“What should I do?” She looked completely and utterly fucking lost. I shrugged. “I need to get them back onside, concentrate on what I’m good at and impress them...” Me, Me, Me – that pretty much summed Lynn up.

I looked over at the group of clients. There were about nine or ten of them sat in a row, wondering what the hell we were whispering about.

I leaned into Lynn and whispered in her ear: “Yeah, but I don’t think you’ve got enough time before lunch to give all these people head. Well, not properly at least. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but two of them are women – do you think you could handle doing some work in the basement on another woman...?”

Then I stood back, regarding Lynn with false concern, then I resumed my place behind the projector, and waited for Lynn’s prompt to continue with the shitty load of old donkey bollocks slideshow.

Lynn looked fucking angry, she throbbed a strange kind of red, but she carried on with the presentation. Warbling her way through in her high-pitched, dolphin-friendly banshee wail, shaking like a heroin addict outside a methodone clinic, sweating like a serial rapist. And, after the presentation when the unimpressed clients got up and left, Lynn didn’t say a word. Not one fucking word. You see, on the night out previously when she was absolutely shitfaced on alcopops and snakebite she’d let it slip she got her promotion by regularly and repeatedly fucking the area manager in a travel inn on the outskirts of town. She’d told me how she was particularly good at sucking the meat lollypop, while she eyed me up suggestively. She even laughed as she retold the tale about the time she got back to her boyfriend’s place with this area manager’s spunk-tacular load drizzled in her hair and down the front of her jacket –

Now, I’ve got to point out the MARRIED area manager must’ve been sixty years old and was the spitting image of David Blunkett (only with working eyes; otherwise I imagine he’d have had a shitload of problems on the motorway and doing that parrallel parking malarkey). I think Lynn was trying to impress me. I was not impressed. Not at all. But this little bit of info gave me the leverage to toss it off (proverbially speaking) at work for the next few months until I decided to go and get a better job.

And the next time I saw David Blunkett aka my area manager in the lift at work, I’d be lying if I didn’t for one fleeting instant consider hitting the emergency button and going to work on his luncheon meat like a rabid dog with a particularly tasty bone - hey, a promotion’s a promotion at the end of the day.
( SpankyHanky, Thu 18 Jun 2009, 14:01, 3 replies)

Ha ha ha!
This has so much win, but I particularly liked "but I didn’t fancy adding another lady-who-looks-like-an-alien to my dis(honour) list"!!
( @><|= w0nu!) or cunt to my friends, Sat 20 Jun 2009, 9:45, closed)

I'm not certain.
But I might love you a little bit.
(Scritty Bakerman., Sun 21 Jun 2009, 6:40, closed)

"she was particularly good at sucking the meat lollypop, while she eyed me up suggestively"
And you DIDN'T take up the offer??? You could have always closed your eyes mate...

*click* for another top-notch story, keep 'em comin' mate!
(RVD420 has his world coming down on, Tue 23 Jun 2009, 16:24, closed)