WORK is dull, so you’re fated to spend time during the working day treading life’s water. Here’s what to do when caught:
Claim to be a model employee
Apologise profusely and explain you were spending your statutory break contemplating the company’s market position and brainstorming ways to futureproof a small Preston mortgage broker so it will become the next Google.
Verdict: will work with bosses that use the same excuse themselves or are storing it away to use in future.
Balls it out. Freeze. If you remain entirely motionless your boss may think you’re invisible, or that time has stopped, or will call you ‘a waste of f**king space’ while walking away from your desk but not actually fire you.
Verdict: less successful with bosses who also have bugger all to do, who may sit down and watch until you faint or piss yourself.
Bursting into a chorus of ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’ will immediately put your boss on the back foot. Due to their innate insecurity, encouraging others to join in will compound the confusion. If asked why you’re singing, answer ‘like you don’t know!’ followed by three shouts of ‘Hooray!’
Verdict: works every time, but only once per boss.
Sense an earthquake
Easier than it sounds. Look bemused, knock a stapler off your desk then say ‘Did you feel that?’ While they’re off-guard kick stuff then continue ‘there it is again! It’s an earthquake. Did anyone else feel it?’ Colleagues are free to either contribute to your bullshit or ditch you.
Verdict: risky, but better than actually working.
Human resources are hot on mental health right now, so your boss will be duty-bound to pretend to be supportive. Ensure you have a valid reason for crying like injustice, the climate emergency or how cruelly the rest of Little Mix have treated Jesy.
Verdict: works every time, until you’re made redundant for entirely unrelated reasons six months later.
FRANCE, Ireland, Scotland – if you’re next door to England you hate the English. But what’s causing this bizarre phenomenon? Wayne Hayes investigates:
As winners of the greatest prize on Earth simply by virtue of our birth, we English know we’re lucky. And, generously, we share that gift with the world.
We blessed France with a tunnel. Ireland has profited from centuries of our steadfast companionship. And we’ve been kind enough to allow Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland to join us as one nation despite their inferiority.
But still our neighbours carp and whine. Why? Well, to get the obvious out of the way, they’re jealous. They see our shining wonder, realise they can never live up to the country that invented the television and penicillin, and can’t take it.
Second, of course, is that we won the war twice. This is why the French are being so awkward about English soliders patrolling their coastlines. It reminds them of how weak they are.
And third, we’re so well-loved around the world. Whether you go to Australia, India or Kenya, mention England and you’ll hear nothing but outpourings of love for our monarchy, our humility and our sense of fair play.
Meanwhile the feckless Irish, the bitter, drunk Scots and the gloomy Welsh have barely even managed to run their own countries. It really is pathetic how they project their inadequacy onto us.
So that’s why we’re so ill-liked: paradoxically, because we’re brilliant and all our neighbours are useless, resentful twats. And if they can just accept that I believe we can all move forward in a spirit of honest harmony.
If not? Well, we’re England. We’ll kick the shit out of them.