Profile for Huey the cat says 'Meewoe':
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- a member for 19 years, 5 months and 29 days
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» The Onosecond
My Little Sister...
.. used to work as an admin assistant in the sales department of a software company. One of the directors in the building was, by all accounts, a rather unpleasant arsepart. Never said 'Good morning' to anyone, was a stranger to the word 'please',and generally expected people to regularly run around after him doing anything he could not be bothered to take care of himself i.e. actual work.
Things came to a head one frantic day, when sister was up to her neck in urgent work, and recieved an abrupt email from Arsepart ordering her to perform some menial task immediately. Now Jaqui is a rather forthright kind of woman; she added a comment reading "Look at this cunt. No please, no thank you. I don't sit around all day, waiting in case something trivial needs to be done. Arrogant fucking wanker", and forwarded it onto the other girl working in her department.
About 10 minutes later, Jaqui recieved another email from Arsepart, asking 'Have I done something to upset you?' Upon checking her email, she discovered that she'd replied to the email rather than forwarded it onto her friend!
After an onosecond of intense panic, she realised thet there was no way she could deny what she'd written, and that the best form of defence was probably to attack. So she sent another email back, apologising for the language she'd used, but pointing out that she was actually very busy, couldn't just drop everything to attend his whims, and that it doesn't take too much effort to use the word 'please'.
Not only did she not get fired, but Arsepart apparently began saying 'hello' to Jaqui when he saw her, and was a bagful of please and thank you whenever he wanted something done.
Any claims for loss of earnings by people who decide to copy this tactic, and then get fired, will not be entered into.
(Tue 31st May 2005, 10:33, More)
My Little Sister...
.. used to work as an admin assistant in the sales department of a software company. One of the directors in the building was, by all accounts, a rather unpleasant arsepart. Never said 'Good morning' to anyone, was a stranger to the word 'please',and generally expected people to regularly run around after him doing anything he could not be bothered to take care of himself i.e. actual work.
Things came to a head one frantic day, when sister was up to her neck in urgent work, and recieved an abrupt email from Arsepart ordering her to perform some menial task immediately. Now Jaqui is a rather forthright kind of woman; she added a comment reading "Look at this cunt. No please, no thank you. I don't sit around all day, waiting in case something trivial needs to be done. Arrogant fucking wanker", and forwarded it onto the other girl working in her department.
About 10 minutes later, Jaqui recieved another email from Arsepart, asking 'Have I done something to upset you?' Upon checking her email, she discovered that she'd replied to the email rather than forwarded it onto her friend!
After an onosecond of intense panic, she realised thet there was no way she could deny what she'd written, and that the best form of defence was probably to attack. So she sent another email back, apologising for the language she'd used, but pointing out that she was actually very busy, couldn't just drop everything to attend his whims, and that it doesn't take too much effort to use the word 'please'.
Not only did she not get fired, but Arsepart apparently began saying 'hello' to Jaqui when he saw her, and was a bagful of please and thank you whenever he wanted something done.
Any claims for loss of earnings by people who decide to copy this tactic, and then get fired, will not be entered into.
(Tue 31st May 2005, 10:33, More)
» Pretentious bollocks
It's modern DARNCE darling
I was unfortunate enough to attend a performance of the Rambert Dance Company several years ago. A girl that I was interested in wanted to go, so I tagged along. The 'ballet' was about the life and work of the Spanish surrealist Federico Garcia Lorca, who was apparently murderd by the Fascists during the Spanish Civil War. After five minutes of self-satisfied posturing on stage, I could well understand why.
The worst part was when they actually performed a farce by Lorca, called 'Buster Keaton's Bicycle'. An typical excerpt from the narration is:
"The machine takes on a single dimension. It could enter a book, stretch out in a bake oven. Buster Keaton's bicycle hasn't a caramel saddle and pedals of sugar, of the sort that wicked men might wish for. It is a bicycle like any other, except that it is the only one that's permeated with innocence. Adam and Eve would run in terror if they saw a glass of water, but on the other hand they would stroke Keaton's bicycle."
If that isn't enough to make any rational person put you up against a wall and riddle your miserable carcass with bullets, what is?
Predictably, the whole affair ended up with thunderous applause from the crowd, and more curtain calls than I could count, as the luvvies on stage milked it for all it was worth. At least it muffled the sound of my incredulous laughter.
BTW, I did end up with the object of my desire, only to find out that she was self-cented, tighter than a gnat's chuff, and crap in bed. So a bit of a wasted evening all round.
"Anyone who uses the word "workshop", and isn't involved in light engineering, is a TWAT" - Alexi Sayle
(Thu 29th Sep 2005, 12:56, More)
It's modern DARNCE darling
I was unfortunate enough to attend a performance of the Rambert Dance Company several years ago. A girl that I was interested in wanted to go, so I tagged along. The 'ballet' was about the life and work of the Spanish surrealist Federico Garcia Lorca, who was apparently murderd by the Fascists during the Spanish Civil War. After five minutes of self-satisfied posturing on stage, I could well understand why.
The worst part was when they actually performed a farce by Lorca, called 'Buster Keaton's Bicycle'. An typical excerpt from the narration is:
"The machine takes on a single dimension. It could enter a book, stretch out in a bake oven. Buster Keaton's bicycle hasn't a caramel saddle and pedals of sugar, of the sort that wicked men might wish for. It is a bicycle like any other, except that it is the only one that's permeated with innocence. Adam and Eve would run in terror if they saw a glass of water, but on the other hand they would stroke Keaton's bicycle."
If that isn't enough to make any rational person put you up against a wall and riddle your miserable carcass with bullets, what is?
Predictably, the whole affair ended up with thunderous applause from the crowd, and more curtain calls than I could count, as the luvvies on stage milked it for all it was worth. At least it muffled the sound of my incredulous laughter.
BTW, I did end up with the object of my desire, only to find out that she was self-cented, tighter than a gnat's chuff, and crap in bed. So a bit of a wasted evening all round.
"Anyone who uses the word "workshop", and isn't involved in light engineering, is a TWAT" - Alexi Sayle
(Thu 29th Sep 2005, 12:56, More)