They’re coming to take me away…..
Please. Today has been absolutely insane and I think I shall soon be going likewise. Supervisor, Senior Manager, Office and CCTV have all been on my case, chasing me from one task to another. All this and the joys of the general dyslexic included. In the words of the H2G2 character, Marvin the Paranoid Android “I ache, therefore I am.”
First thing, I’m sent traipsing across town with a sheaf of printouts to the Office, who catch me in the “Oh Bill, can you just do this for us” trap. Senior Manager catches me in the office and has two or three ‘little jobs’ he wants done. For the next two hours I am shuttling between various council locations like a courier. Half way through, CCTV have a problem that apparently only I am available for. I can almost hear the rest of my shift sniggering at the way I’m sent careering from one side of bloody town to the next. You can almost hear the sympathy from the way everyone clammed up when there was a ‘special’ job to be done.
There is an old joke that goes like this; Back in the days of sail a young man joins a Ship to sail the wide oceans in search of his fortune. At the end of the third week at sea, a large barrel with a greased bung hole in the side is brought up from the hold and placed on deck, lashed to the foremast. The young man speaks to the first mate about this; “Pray Master Mate, what is the purpose of yon barrel?”
The first Mate looks him up and down before speaking. “Well me bucko, tis for those poor sailor men who feel the need of a woman, yet there is no such wanton aboard, the Cap’n being of a puritanical mind. So we poor sailors must insert our manhood in the greased hole there to obtain relief from our womanless state.”
“Pray tell me good Master Mate, should I feel the need of such comfort, how should I avail myself?” Says the young man.
“Ah me laddo, just put thy name here and you shall have the comfort of that barrel on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday.”
“Good Master Mate, what about Wednesdays and Saturdays?”
The Mate claps the young man on the shoulder and replies; “Ah, why ‘tis then your turn in the barrel.”
Today has been my turn in the barrel.
First thing, I’m sent traipsing across town with a sheaf of printouts to the Office, who catch me in the “Oh Bill, can you just do this for us” trap. Senior Manager catches me in the office and has two or three ‘little jobs’ he wants done. For the next two hours I am shuttling between various council locations like a courier. Half way through, CCTV have a problem that apparently only I am available for. I can almost hear the rest of my shift sniggering at the way I’m sent careering from one side of bloody town to the next. You can almost hear the sympathy from the way everyone clammed up when there was a ‘special’ job to be done.
There is an old joke that goes like this; Back in the days of sail a young man joins a Ship to sail the wide oceans in search of his fortune. At the end of the third week at sea, a large barrel with a greased bung hole in the side is brought up from the hold and placed on deck, lashed to the foremast. The young man speaks to the first mate about this; “Pray Master Mate, what is the purpose of yon barrel?”
The first Mate looks him up and down before speaking. “Well me bucko, tis for those poor sailor men who feel the need of a woman, yet there is no such wanton aboard, the Cap’n being of a puritanical mind. So we poor sailors must insert our manhood in the greased hole there to obtain relief from our womanless state.”
“Pray tell me good Master Mate, should I feel the need of such comfort, how should I avail myself?” Says the young man.
“Ah me laddo, just put thy name here and you shall have the comfort of that barrel on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday.”
“Good Master Mate, what about Wednesdays and Saturdays?”
The Mate claps the young man on the shoulder and replies; “Ah, why ‘tis then your turn in the barrel.”
Today has been my turn in the barrel.
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