To everything there is a season...

Autumn looks like it's well and truly here. I enjoyed our ten-day Indian summer and made the most of it. Now it looks like the only thing we have to look forward to between now and Christmas are the early Budget and the Obama/McCain fun across the Atlantic.

Why can't we hibernate?

Civil Service Spam

I hate getting Spam in my inbox. Loads of rubbish about penis extensions and Rollox watches and such other wank. And the odd pleasant missive from kind gentlemen in Nigeria offering me untold riches in exchange for my bank details. Must get back to them sometime when I'm less busy.

I hate the way it is sent indiscriminately. If they would only get their target market right. I mean, sending stuff about vacuum suction penis pumps to women?

It got me thinking, wouldn't it be great if spam mail was profession-specific?

For instance all the doctors would get the mails about cialis and viagra. And cocaine. Struggling students would get stuff about $100 Ph.Ds. The Progressive Democrats would be contacted by "Discount Funerals. Special Group Rate." Limerick people would be contacted by "Discount Funerals. Special Neighbourhood Group Rate."

And civil servants? We'd get some fantastic stuff. I've imagined it here (click to...erm... enlarge *cough*):


Then all these nice people selling stuff might actually get somewhere. In these tough economic times you need all the help you can get.

The Country's Fucked! (Part one of a series of thousands)

This picture of a dole queue in Cork that appeared in the press last week is a sign of the times.

Yes, I had to fuck with it. Even though it's not really funny as I know what it's like to stand in line. Sorry everyone. I'm going to hell.

And anyway, even we civil servants aren't safe. Not with John McGuinness on the rampage. The only safe place to be these days is DSFA, by the looks of things. But no room for slackers with queues like this, I would think.

(Click to enlarge)

On a happy middle-management note, HEOs and APs can sit back and quickly assess their staff's overall performance by marking random members of the dole queue with ink or paint, and then see how quickly they get to the front of the queue. And whether the CO or EO on the counter will spot the ink or paint and tell the claimant to "piss off, you haven't even tried to disguise the fact that you're working."

Bwahahahahahaaah!

Govstooge's Law of Crapness

The number of staff assigned to a manager is inversely proportionate to the number of times the manager is likely to get them all together at the same time to tell them stuff.

I've discovered this to my detriment, as I can't remember who I told what to or when.

This makes me look shit in front of the real managers.

Bleurgh.

Overheard...

Another EO talking to one of their clerical officers... might I add that this clerical officer is a known berk...

EO: Any plans for the weekend?
CO: No, no. But I might take most of next week off if that's OK with you.
EO: No problem. Which days do you want off? Give me your leave application form and I'll enter them on the leave system for you.
CO: Well, I don't know yet. I might take the days off, and I might not. I'm not sure what I'm going to be doing.
EO: Are you going to come in on Monday?
CO: I think so. But I'll ring you if I'm not coming in. And I'll ring on Tuesday if I'm not coming in that day either (and so on...)
EO: I'm not going to be in on Monday or Tuesday myself.
CO: Oh.
EO: But you can ring the HEO.
CO: Actually, I think I will book the whole week off now.
EO: Ok then...

Patience of a saint, that EO. I'm glad I'm not in that situation as I would be out of a job by now. At this stage I would probably be jumping up and down whacking the CO over the head with the leave form shouting "JUST TAKE THE FUCKING DAYS YOU STUPID TWAT AND GIVE THE REST OF US A FUCKING BREAK FROM YOUR BLOODY TWATTITUDE!" A week without that kind of person in the place would be like a holiday for the others.

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Now playing: Utah Saints - Something Good
via FoxyTunes

National Pay Squabble

At long last the national pay talks concluded. (Yes, I know it was yesterday... I was too fucked tired last night to post anything. Don't ask. Because it's fucking boring, that's why.)

The public sector are to be awarded 6% over 20 months; the first 3.5% of which is to be paid out next September, following a 11-month public sector pay freeze. Pay freeze? Fuck! Aside from my annual increment (dependent on getting 2 or more in my annual PMDS review) I'm to get only one pay rise next year? Sweet sufferin' Jaysus! What are we to do? Where's a support group when you need one? How do I find the Employee Assistance Officer?

Mind you, we've just had a 2.5% increase on the first of this month. I celebrated with a few bottles of Leffe and Erdinger. Mmmm. Erdinger. Secretary Generals on the other hand just have some extra loo roll with pictures of windows and bridges on it.

Disgusted, Tunbridge Wells

Tonight I watched The Naked Civil Servant.

This is a film based on the life of Quentin Crisp, in which the title role is played by John Hurt.

I was outraged by what this film portrayed. Outraged, affronted and completely let down.

There wasn't a form in sight.

Boo.

(Mind you this was more than compensated for by John Hurt's performance and the subtle insertion of many of the great man's quotes into the narrative. My own favourite being: "Euphemisms are unpleasant truths wearing diplomatic cologne.")