That pure Cane Spirit since 1848.

Friday, December 09, 2005

…the cracked brass bell will ring,
to summon back the Fire Witch,
to the court of the Crimson King…

In the name! Two days now lost to work. Someone threw a spanner in the works, not literally, that would be criminally insane but a minor spanner, a spanner with a small “s” which meant that yesterday I was in the West of Scotland, [God preserve me from the ******** XXXXX ******* XXXXXXX ****** (no offence)], which was totally crap, and today I have been mopping up the credibility slops. Someone’s got to do it. Never mind if you can do polynomial regressions in your head, in this line if you can eat peas off the back of a fork, you are pushed to the front to smooth things over with the glaikit bastards. Sometimes I think it shows on my face even when I’m smiling that I couldn’t give a flying fig for their silly little problems.
Customers, I fucking hate ‘em. They spend a few bob and they think that entitles them to oh never mind it’s all shite anyway fucking stuff and nonsense It was their fucking fault.
The roundup’s going to be late and that’s a fact. Here’s an interim cartoon I stole from JokeMail. I’ll put the link in the roundup. I might just sit here and do it now. Fuck it all.

Update: fucking Blogger won’t let me post! This is the pits.

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