Saturday, June 6, 2009

Good times, bad times

I'm going to deliver today's posting as a shit sandwich readers. Sounds horrid doesn't it? But it's actually a bone fide business technique used by middle managers carrying out appraisals. Anyone who is anyone that's worked in a busy office will be familiar with the shit sandwich.

Imagine you're a middle manager and one of your staff hasn't been performing as well as they should (or as well as you'd hope (or as well as your boss would hope)), it's appraisal time and you haven't really got the balls to tell them to buck their ideas up. You give them a shit sandwich. Sometimes literally.

It's a method of delivering something deeply unpalatable by sugar coating it between two pieces of relatively good news.

First up, some good news. I'd like to extend a warm and friendly Newsdesk welcome to my two latest followers. First up is Tennyson ee Hemingway. It's a funny name, steeped in literary reference, for a funny fella. His blog, Andy Warhol Goes Shopping, has nine followers at the time of writing. I'm sure that figure will sky-rocket if he keeps going around following other blogs and writing nice things about them (mine certainly did ;-)

Tennyson left a lovely comment on my last post: "Over here from Mr London Street and he's absolutely right. How you only have 18 follower is beyond me. Well, now you have 19."

I did when you left the comment Tennyson , but before I could post an anti-war piece heavily influenced by the musings of Paul Hardcastle, up popped my first Kiwi follower, Megan Rose, whose excellent blog, Frou Frou Frippery, has NNNNNNNN ,NNNNNN 19 followers (now that I've joined). Maybe Megan can post something about all the things war is good for!

Absolutely nothin', say it again. Absolutely nothin.

Yeah.

I'm riffing now readers, riffin like a mo fo. But it's time to bring things back down to earth. It's time for the SHIT brother.

I got a text this morning from my best friend Dave, the roofer, asking me to meet up for the England game. Now, Dave's a big man, but he's out of shape, that said I didn't fancy meeting after the last text exchange we'd had. I'm a pacifist and sometimes with Dave, especially when England are playing, he likes a drink and a bit of ruck. So I texted him back and said I was feeling a bit fluey, was it something important?

Now, I assumed that he had confronted Gill about the pregnancy and she's told him about her plans for a "ternimation" [sic]. I expected Dave, the roofer, wanted to drown his sorrows and, quite possibly, create some sorrows for yours truly.

I was wrong. Dave texted back and said he wanted to "wet the babies head".

Jesus, the man's grammar is abysmal and here he is about to bring a child into the world. A child with my ex! Seems Gill has had a change of heart. She's no spring chicken and when they reach a certain age, they sometimes loose all concept of reality, don't they? Anyway, she is now (rather selfishly in my opinion, having the kid). It really got me down, there I was expecting us to get back on the straight and narrow, I was even thinking of getting her to move in, I mean it would have really helped with the mortgage, and that was that, my plans are out of the window thanks to her lack of control and bloody hormones.

Women.

Right, well I knew it would get be down writing about it, so I thought I'd bring the mood back up with some good news - and in truth it's a really double whammy. I got a letter on the doorstep today from that publishing house that has the interview with, they've already decided that they want to bring me in for a second interview. Brilliant eh? I guess I've still got what it takes for sales. In a way it's a bit of a shame, becasue I've really started to get somewhere with Citizen Journalism, with all my cool new followers, but now Gill's not moving back in, I suppose I've got to face up to reality and start bringing home the bacon.

The really cool part, though, is that on my way to the paper shop this morning, I noticed that Blockbusters on the High Street has been shut down! Ha, so this is for you Richard, Leigh and Amber! UP YOURS, I didn't need your stupid job anyway!

'KK, think I might crack open a Cobra and get myself ready for the big England game.

I'm a little wary of making ppublic predictions, especially after my Champions League debacle, but I sense a 3-0 win for Capello's Lions.

4 comments:

  1. Blogleader - you just get better and better! Last few blogs have approached genius! (I really mean it!) I so hope you make a go of the impending career move - you deserve a shed load of good luck after recent events - but let's hope it does not affect the quality and quantity of your blogs! I've been a bit quiet on the comments recently. Between you and me I've got a bit of a dicky ticker as a result of an infection I picked up from one of the kids at school. Been having some tests and finally expect to have a new heart valve fitted some time this month or early next. Decided to have a pig valve rather than a mechanical one - so, if you have room in the freezer I'll happily send you down what's left of the pig after the surgeon has cut out the bits he needs! Your blogs have kept me going through some quite rough times over the past few months. I await the next chapter with bated breath! Cheers Barry

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  2. Awesome, thanks Mr C - I love a bacon sarnie after a heavy night on the Cobra.

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  3. "wet the babies head"...hahahaha

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  4. thanks for the big ups and I'll do the same. no problems.

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