Tuesday, 27 September 2011
Arbroath Smokies and making forged twenty pound notes
We don’t often feel sorry for the Ghost Writer but he has spent the entire day trapped in a room with no windows, listening to various people talk about things. He says he was struggling to concentrate on the right things and kept drifting off on tangents in his mind. I know that feeling well, it happens to me all the time.
He was OK until he shouted out no keep the kippers away from me I want an Arbroath Smokie and some wheel barrows, while they were all deep in discussion about financial planning and future organisational restructure. He then had to explain to everyone that the fish represented the different client base of the organisation and the wheel barrows the organisation and that by repositioning the wheel barrows it was possible to deal with the different fish (clients) in an efficient manor. But they made him draw diagrams and he had to present a Powerpoint presentation in the afternoon and flow charts, and tidal speeds and everything.
So instead of getting away with keeping his head down and eating cake at the end he ended up talking rubbish for three hours and was then dragged away by the management committee to be praised on his wonderful alternative analysis of the business. To make things worse when he got back all the end of meeting refreshments and cake had been eaten and all that was left was a few sardine sandwiches. Which he didn’t really fancy as he had spent several hours talking about fish in the hierarchical structure of his organisation. That would put most people off fish for sure.
It was a beautiful sunny day today and I too drifted off during the Maths lesson and then suddenly shouted out the cubic square of three hundred and twenty three Minus fifty eight plus a side salad and chips the teacher said well done Rob I am well impressed have a gold star. Sadly it was not a real gold star just a fake one made of paper. You would think that a school would be trustworthy enough not to try and con young impressionable children with fake gold stars. That’s the first step on the slippery road to making forged twenty pound notes like dad does, although I am not allowed to tell you that …………………..AH …….. I did it again. Mum just said IDIOT.