I have just had the bollocking of my life...
Fucking bosses...

Don't need this on a Monday.

Basically, the company I work for sends people out and about round London to pick shit up. (Not literally).

The easiest way to get round London is by Tube, so most of the day for these poor fuckers is spent sat in a big long metal phalus underground that smells like vomit, piss, and stale continental tourists. Not very pleasant. (I prefer my phalli to smell like raw bacon, but that's probably just me).

To spice up their rather dull working day I divised a game which incorporates something that happens almost daily on the Tube, and for some unknown reason I find to be fucking hillarious...

The Tube Suicide Game.

Ten points if somebody performs a spot of track diving with accompanying train eating whilst your on the same line. Or a whopping hundred points if someone decorates the front of the train your travelling in with a colourful collarge of blood, bone, skin, and organs.

I had a spreadsheet with the latest scores and everything. All very colourful. Could really tell I put hours into making it.

Fucking bosses...

Maybe I shouldn't have named the file Tube Suicide Game...

Oh, don't go via Kings Cross if you can help it. Its like lemming central down there.
( SpankyHanky, Mon 12 Jan 2009, 16:10, 4 replies)

You're
Sorry.
(EuroSong I love horse meat: best of all the animals, Mon 12 Jan 2009, 20:10, closed)

'somebody chucks um selves under a tube '
Are you The Beano's 'Little Plum', by any chance?
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 8:50, closed)

Only in my quieter moments...
The rest of the time I'm more like Garfield, what with the lasagne and the sleeping...
( SpankyHanky, Tue 13 Jan 2009, 9:12, closed)

Cold, man.
Real Cold.

*click* for fear of teh coldness.
(EffinDoubt is breaking glass on, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 11:04, closed)