Friday, May 17, 2013


We leave that new office girl in charge for three months (or was it closer to a year?) and next thing we find that she’s gone completely bolshie.
Imagine; also sending stuff to Quiggin using ‘Lulabelle, the secretary’ as a pen name.

Don’t know what is wrong with her.

The fridge was stocked before we left?
Oh, admittedly there was this little oversight that we forgot to arrange with the bank to pay her wages.

But we did insist on someone with ‘initiative’ at the employment interview.

Maybe she could have sold off the silverware in the canteen – but I suppose that stainless ain’t as valuable.

That Arthur has been about the place too.
It is his handwriting on the blackboard. Half a dozen attempts to make this word ‘grimbister’ look okay and a dictionary open at ‘G’.

What the hell has HE been up to?

Never mind.
We are back from holiday now and can promise Ms Gillard and Mr. Abbott that this sort of outbreak of venom will not occur again (mainly because we’ve locked her up in the back room ‘til she stops sobbing).

Arthur hasn’t turned up yet but he enjoys sleeping rough.

We realise that this might be construed as being a bit harsh – but we simply cannot have it bandied about out there in cyberspace that someone merely left in charge of the office for the last few months is expressing, then publishing, the views of management.

Not cricket, that!
Certainly not the way dear old Oz is going lately.

No way in the world we want reprisals from the Masters just because our little secretary was talking what she believed an honest view and was worried about being alone and looking after what we'd cynically let her believe was something more than a temporary hitch.

That’s okay, though.
We’ll be seeing her off tomorrow with (Whattya want, a golden handshake?) a few dollars and enough moolah, at least, to buy a few yuckburgers at Mackers.

Some of you bleeding hearts out there might find this attitude somewhat callous.

If so write in to our site, our little blog, and express your asinine outrage.

In closing – yah, boo, sux!

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