Thursday, May 31, 2007

Something Lurking...

For fuck's sake why does it always happen to me?

I arrived at the Department this morning at 9.55, swiped in and went to the toilet to have a piss before I started the day's work.

Went to my favourite stall, and what was there to greet me?

No, not the resident perv. Nor was it a lost cleaner.

It was...

... a neat, perfectly formed turd, clinging to the air with the tenacity of slightly more viscous shit to a blanket. It was the exact opposite of an iceberg; most of it was above the water.

It was this, this nasty chocolate surprise, with its three-inch skidmark down the bowl, that put me in bad humour for the rest of the day.

What to do? Pooing at work is a basic human right, what if I needed to go, but wasn't allowed? The garage nearby has a toilet, but it's not been cleaned since 1988, since then at least 15,000 sweaty truckers' arses have delivered loads there.

As a consequence, I have devised a new entry for the Civil Service Staff Suggestion Scheme.

It is thus:

"All staff should obliged to follow a diet consisting of Guinness, bananas and rye bread. This will benefit the Department in many ways - 1. Shits will be heavier in consistency and will therefore be dispatched from the building if done during work hours. 2. Additional flushing to remove the 'lighter' shits will be eliminated, thereby conserving water. 3. Errr.... "

I have less than three years' service. That award is mine. MINE I TELL YOU!

Electile Dysfunction

Yeah, so it's been a week; but what do you expect from a civil servant, gentle reader? Do you want timely comment and analysis on the events of the great Irish democratic process as they unfold? Then this, I'm afraid, is the wrong place.

Having analysed the results thoroughly, I can come up with one bit of advice for Michael McDowell: Don't give up on politics just yet, next time out you could just go to Clare and stand for election there; they love new blood! And you might even be able to put some manners on the senior hurling team!

The next five weeks...

Had a meeting with my HEO and my AP today.

It looks like I'm going to have to do some work for the next five weeks.


Monday, May 21, 2007

Civil Serv-Ants

The little cunts are all over the canteen. Nicking the sugar. The Department is a minging fucking place today.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

A new email disclaimer...

Don't you just hate those email disclaimers? The ones that are fifty times longer than the body of the email you've just received?

I was bored at work one day, and short of poking my staff with sharp objects, I decided to amuse myself in a less painful way.

This disclaimer is now appended at the bottom of my emails.

The information in this message may contain sharp particles that are uncomfortable if ingested and/or used as asuppository.

It is solely for the misuse of the individual intended. Access to this electronic mail message by anyone else is unauthorized, penalty if caught is death. If you are not the intended recipient, fuck off and die. Please frotter yourself up against the sender immediately if you have received this electronic message by mistake, and destroy all Americans.

The sender believes that this e-mail and any attachments were free of virus, worm, Trojan condom, monosodium glutamate when sent.

E-mail transmissions cannot be guaranteed to be spelt well or error-free, so this message and its attachments could have been infected, corrupted or may have come into contact with unscrupulous members of the Irish Government.

The Department of Squeaky Doors is unable to provide a happy and healthy working environment for its employees. And we're proud of it. NOW GET BACK TO WORK you useless shower of bastards!! (Whipcrack)

Friday, May 18, 2007

Don't know why I cared, but I did, for a moment.

Checked the Electoral Register last night. Shock! Horror! I wasn't on it!

Before I could stop myself, I had the following invective for my local council...

Some months ago, prompted to do so by reports of people mysteriously disappearing from the Electoral Register, I logged onto your website to ensure that I was eligible to vote in the imminent General Election.

Imagine my astonishment when I discovered that I was one of the electors who had gone “AWOL”. I don’t recall ever registering myself to vote in another county, despite having dared to reside outside of the county on several occasions. I have always retained my right to vote in my home county.

In addition, the address at which I was registered is the same address at which my parents are currently residing and where my grandparents and several preceding generations of my family, all bearing the same surname as I do, have resided.

I immediately downloaded form RFA2 and completed it, remembering to have it signed and stamped by a member of An Garda Siochána. This I did at the local station on March 16th last. I posted the form, and I know for a fact that it did reach its destination, as I was contacted on my mobile number within a week by a member of your staff, who asked me to confirm my townland. She assured me that I would be replaced on the Electoral Register immediately.

Today, May 17th, I decide, just for the sheer fun of it, to check the Register once more. I am still “missing in action” according to your website.

In hindsight, trusting that civil servants would carry out their duties was a mistake on my part. As a civil servant myself, I naïvely fulfil the requirements of my role to the highest possible standard. As a consequence of the actions of XXXXX County Council, I have been deprived of my constitutional right to vote.

In an age where voter apathy is of grave concern to our elected representatives, it seems to me a terrible pity that those who want to vote are precluded from doing so by oversights and general carelessness on the part of our public service.

Returning home after having posted this, I discover my polling card waiting for me. Oops!

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

The Age of Treason

So there's an election in three weeks. Weeks of looking at enormous cardboard effigies of hideously ugly people. I would have taken annual leave to avoid these visual abominations, but it didn't occur to me in time. It wouldn't make a difference, as we will still be looking at these disgusting images come Christmas.

I have a theory on this: namely that the ugliest people will always get the most votes. Most of our electorate don't have the time, energy or merely the inclination to ruminate on the relative merits of the various manifestoes. With the inclusion of pictures on the ballot papers, we can simply pick the ones we remember from the campaign posters, such as the one with the biggest nose, the worst haircut, the most chins, or the strange independent candidate with two heads, one of which is purple (I'd vote for her, at least she's openly two-faced).
It doesn't make the slightest fucking difference at the end of the day; no political party is able to please all of the people all of the time, but they will always please themselves, with bigger pay packets, junkets abroad on Paddy's day etc.
It's a classic case where the whims of the few (i.e. 166) vastly outweigh the needs of the many.

Oh well, I still get paid, and I can dream about bringing down the system from within.

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Philosophy 101

The Irish Civil Service is like a great big cake. There are lots of layers from clerical officer at the bottom right up to secretary general. There are so many layers of management it often seems as though the organisation will collapse in on itself under the weight of its own administration, like a cake with too little raising agent.

If you eat too much of it you will be very sick indeed.