Whenever any of the genital-free meat puppets in Friends ever show signs of getting anything on, Phoebe, the stretch squirrel, squeals "Get a room!" That always struck me as damn funny, but like many bon mots it also contains a kernel of serious truth, innit.
I'm always getting emails at work from cutting-edge types who've decided that linking to articles by disgraced ex-Welsh Simon Jenkins about how there aren't any terrorists anywhere is some substitute for having ideas of their own. I've long given up on replying or threatening to pop their pods with my giant, papier-mache mosquito. It has no effect.
So now I simple email back "get a blog!". It hasn't worked yet.
At the same time, I find "put it on your wiki!" is a suitable workplace alternative to flushing some monkeyplunger's head down the lav everytime they try to explain some new managerial concept to me, or anyone standing near me.
It's all going in the Cymru Rouge Book of Management.
2 comments:
Didn't Simon Jenkins say that bombing Serbia would make Slobbersovic the most powerful dictator since Hitler?
Whenever someone links you an article from Pussy Jenkins, send them back the Trumpton theme tune, with instructions to sing along with the lyrics "O Pussy Jenkins, O Pussy Jennerkins!" repeated all the way through it.
Too right, my hairy friend. His finest moment was having an article about there being no Al Qaeda threat to Europe come out the day of the Madrid bombings. You won't see anything that dumb by here, unless he get him to write a guest post.
Trumpton is the unofficial Welsh national hanthem, in the performance by Shakey, of course.
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