Fancy that

Funny, today and yesterday The Sandman has decided I was suddenly indispensable. Hypocritical bastard. One day I'm not quite the right level for him, the next I'm the Dogs Bollocks.

Why is this?

Because he's had his fat fucking arse kicked from above because The Company's Pipes, Tubes and Strings have suffered a few issues lately, and our beloved (sic!) customers are whinging. Whats new there then? Personally I think customers are ungrateful fuckers, who want everything now and to pay fuck all for it. We strive to provide something close, but when "service" is affected well, you kind of get what you pay for you fucking morons.

So last night at ten past fucking ten I got a call from the two faced bastard.

"Jack, how you doing mate?"
"Fine Sandman, just fine" Jack says ("Fuck off you fat shitbag" Jack thinks)
"Bet you're happy about Chelsea then huh? What ateam, what a season!"
"Yeah, pretty good. Never thought \I'd see it personally" Jack says ("You know fuck all about football so shut the fuck up" Jack thinks)
"Yeah, Come on The Blues.....anyway...." (Yeah, lay it on you slimy wanker" Jack thinks)
".........We have a few issues and I need you to pull some info together for a report I'm producing to act as a defence"
"Oh right, sounds serious, you know me, Ill do what I can" Jack says ("Christ, you coward" Jack thinks)
"Cool, I knew I could rely on you. Never let me down have you Jack? Good bloke Jack"
"Ok, give me the details then Sandman" Jack says ("Fuck me, why not ring your arse with Vaseline and bend over for the bastard, you cowardly twat" Jack thinks)

I won't bore you with the details but effectively I've just done a 14 hour day in front of a screen, getting statistics together, manipulating data, benchmarking trends, forecasting futures blah blah blah. Yep, in fact I've allowed myself to be metaphorically roasted by Sandman and The Bespectacled Guru. All because I'm a coward. Too cowardly to tell them how I feel. Too cowardly to tell them what I think, of them, the job and The Company. Too cowardly because I need their filth laden lucre each month. Too cowardly because I don't know how to do anything else. Too cowardly because GMD would remove some vital organs (that only men have) if I did do something and lose my job/walk out.

But then i think to myself that all of this shite pays for 3 holidays per year, a decent-ish car, golf, football, beers down The Pub and all of my other indulgences. Is it worth it? Who knows, but for the meantime I'll milk every fucking penny I can from the bastards, and I'll smile as they take it in turns to penetrate me with the Corporate Cock, safe in the knowledge that one day, none of this will matter.

Later, GrocerJack