One look could kill….

Some a-hole has given me a butt load of work to do today and seeing as my brain isn’t used to this amount of activity between 8.30am and 5pm Monday to Friday I’m finding it hard to multi task. The danger of not using the little grey cells for over a year to do anything more challenging than typing up a word document or photocopying means that when you are suddenly called upon to do something a little more taxing they have to start firing up again and this can take some time. A defensive mechanism that my noodle seems to have taken on is to procrastinate to the most extreme levels possible and therefore make the task even more arduous and prolonged. Today has been no exception.

However now we are fast approaching 5pm and I’ll be buggered if I’m going to be here any longer than necessary - “over time” is not a word in my vocabulary – so today’s blog is short and sweet. My sincere apologies and I promise to make up for it later in the week with some big, juicy (careful) laugh a minute shocker of a blog. If my brain has recovered by then that is.

Today we have cake in the office, cake and sweets and chocolate and pastries. It’s one of the old codger’s birthdays and he has been so kind to furnish us with nummies to eat. The usual h-i-larious email went round about it being his 36th birthday and an equally h-i-larious one came back from some clever dick asking if he’d got the numbers the wrong way round and we were all asked to help ourselves to cake. Don’t mind if I do, thanks very much and happy birthday me old mukka.

FB (yes she’s still here much to our annoyance and coughing and spluttering all over the place until Monday apparently – NO!!) had somehow managed to make it through the doors at 10.10am, which threw me and Gunner a bit as we thought it must be the afternoon. She was therefore here for the unveiling of the cakes and immediately starts harping on at the top of her whining, shrill French voice (you need to adopt an ‘Allo ‘Allo accent when you read this – I’m not being a xenophobe she does actually talk like that) “Oh my god! What is all this poison?!” Unfortunately she is too loud to ignore or block out so whoever is nearest to her gives the correct response of “what?!” to which she starts going on about the cakes.

“Oh my god, what is all this poison? Who brought in all this poison? Look at all this poison!”

I tell you it’s like Alice Cooper’s in the building.

The old codger pipes up with “I did, it’s my birthday” and then is playfully berated for forcing all of this ‘poison’ upon FB.

Immediately I receive 2 emails – one from Gunner and one from Ginger (I’m sure Kirstie would have joined in but she’s off today):

From: Gunner
Sent: 16 February 2010 10:46
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: Aaargh

WELL DON’T FEKIN EAT IT THEN YOU HIDEOUS TROUT!


From: Ginger
Sent: 16 February 2010 10:45
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: WTF

What is all this poison?! WTF? Shut up you skinny bint and have a doughnut!


I respond to Gunner:


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 16 February 2010 10:49
To: Gunner
Subject: RE: Aaargh

You have to translate:

“What is all this poison?!” = “I am fishing for people to say to me ‘but FB you don’t need to worry about your weight!’”

Which no one will do because she is a hideous trout.


Yes that’s right FB is a skinny bint fishing for compliments. She does it all the time when cakes and sweets are in the office and rarely do people rise to it any more. If Ladybum was still about he might come up with something to get her affections for a few minutes but now he’s gone she’s got no chance.

So as this is going on I am tempted to go up and make some massive show of having a Danish pastry “Oh thanks so much for these delicious looking cakes!! Happy Birthday! I think I may have 2 because I really don’t have to worry about my weight and they are so yummy!” But FB beats me to it and follows Saffa up to the table to get a fucking cake! “Oh look at what you are making me do!” Yeah I can see that gun he’s holding to your head luv. 5 minutes later and she’s back up for a 2nd one.

From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 16 February 2010 11:07
To: Ginger
Subject: RE: WTF

She’ll be dead with all that poison soon.


Well we can but wish. She’s just been up for a third cake. Even pig faced me has only had the Danish and a Forrero Rocher. Oh yes and as I type she’s going for a 4th. There is much show over this one “How many have you had Saffa? Oh la la, this is my 4th!” NO ONE CARES YOU GREEDY FUCK WIT JUST EAT IT AND SHUT THE HELL UP! I might just move the tray of chocolates to her desk and save her the walk and opportunity to go on about every thing she sticks in her gob. Funny she’s not so vocal about the other things she likes to put in her mouth in this office.

Saucer of milk table 3!