Intranet newsletters
In one of my many jobs, as an induction policy, every new recruit had to spend time in each department, learning the processes. At the same time, you were given a mentor, who would guide you through the complexities of the full process from order to completion.

I pulled the short straw. I ended up with Gerald, the office twunt. Gerald was the kind of guy who was everyone's mate, even though the office staff actually despised the guy and everything he did. He organised raffles that no-one entered. He organised parties and get-togethers that no-one attended yet he still didn't get the hint. A butt-clenchingly annoying, permanently cheery guy that everyone wanted to headbutt to death within 30 seconds of meeting.

My mentor.

For two months.

Yippee skip.

Gerald also ran the newsletter on the intranet. Daily updates that "had to be done by 3:00", fuck knows why. He'd fill this with the most trivial, banal, mind-crushingly boring stuff that you wanted to scoop your eyes out with spoons aftter reading one paragraph. Think "Hello/Heat/insert title of vacuous prole-fodder here" type of thing but with the stories about his fellow workers. Every minute detail was pored over by him as if life itself depended on it. I made the mistake of divulging my hobbies to him and ended up as front-page news every day for a week FFS! He'd actually ask colleagues every day whether they'd read it and take great affront if they said "No". He'd then regale the unfortunate with the juiciest titbits of that day's oeuvre, ignoring their desparate attempts to open a vein with anything to hand.

A month in, and I was actually helping him with his newsletter, setting it up, suggesting headlines (ahem, in a post-modern ironic manner, obviously) etc. One monday he came to me and said he'd had some grave news, the years of smoking had finally got to him. He was scheduled for a full laryngectomy the next day.
I was stunned, he really was a twunt but this was far, far more retribution than I'd ever really wished on him. He asked me to announce it in the newsletter, once he'd successfully come out of surgery. He'd written himself an achingly saccharine-sweet,self-pitying article about his "struggle", his "deternination to fight this disease" and "help others in the same boat". It was awful but I was a bit stunned to notice.
That day was surreal as he didn't "do his rounds" chatting to all and sundry but he still tried to be funny. I even laughed once or twice.

The next day I rang the hospital about twenty times before getting the news that he'd made it out of surgery but they'd had to remove his whole larynx and thyroid. He was expected to make a good recovery. I pulled up the article and took the paragraphs he'd highlighted to be used "in case of survival". It was already formatted but I had to think of a suitable headline. Not too tacky, not too heroic. Tasteful but which would give the right emotional impact.

Then it came to me.







WORKPLACE BORE - DUMB!!

/coat
/veal
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 11:40, 5 replies)

*applauds*...

*dry heaves*

I'm starting to get funny looks in the office as I cannot control my shoulders shuddering as I quietly chortle.

If anyone asks I'll say that I'm having either a seizure or an orgasm...

*tries not to click*

*fails*

*clicks*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 15 Jan 2009, 11:50, closed)

...
argh.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 11:50, closed)

Actually Pooflake............
This came to me last night. I should have passed the baton to you, I'm sure you'd have been far more flowery in your prose.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:02, closed)

Oh, I don't know...

I hail your efforts, considering we only had slim pickings regarding punnage material this week.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:07, closed)

OH JOHN RINGO NO
You utter bastard. *Click*.
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:25, closed)