Tag Archives: Business

It’s off to worse we go…


The seven dwarves made a fortune from their pay-per-view site ‘Watch Women Sleep,’ which, while sleazy, was a marked improvement on their original business idea: ‘High Hoes.’


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Written for: Twittering Tales


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The Annual Purge (2017 Inspirational Calendar)…

It’s the annual purge of all the terrible things I’ve heard and imagined this year – the corporate equivalent of being overcome with food lust in the middle of a diet and wolfing down a dirty burger.

It’s a long held lament amongst many of my peers that we weren’t taken aside at school and informed: ‘Once you leave education and join the workforce you’ll notice that many people stop speaking English and adopt a farcical hybrid slang in which they’re always looking for bases to touch whilst spoiling games by putting skin in them.’

The zenith / nadir was reached in 2013 when I was handed a copy of ‘Aspire Systems’ unintentionally hilarious calendar in which their staff made nonsensical claims to ‘dare the unknown,’ ‘overtake fear,’ and ‘go upstream!’ My retaliatory effort in which I pledged to ‘dream the impenetrable’ and ‘tick boxes’ did little to foster ongoing relations.

As with previous years I’ve had the problem of coming up with joke names for fictional companies and then finding that they actually exist. These include: Proactivate, Solutionary, Eurekarma and Investigreat (!) but so far no one’s stooped low enough to come up with…


Barring submissions to Companies House, next year’s entry will either be ‘Analytican,’ ‘Passion FruI.T,’ or ‘Unabler’.

violin2JANUARY: ‘I Square the circle’: Like saying ‘I bacon the banana’ or ‘I shave the shark,’ only MORE retarded…

FEBRUARY: I Mind-Fondle: Because if you can use the phrase ‘Thought Shower’…

MARCH: ‘I’m a Thought Leader’: After My mind-fondle I ascend the strategic staircase and get into my cerebrocopter…

ringAPRIL: I lobotomine for gold: Where you see imbecile, I see visionary…

MAY: I go on mute: See, it wasn’t wasted time after all. I’ve mowed the lawn, painted a bathroom, done the weekly shop and…what was that? No, no any other business from me…OK, bye…

JUNE: Where others only ‘whelm’ I SUPERUNDERWHELM!

unnamedJULY: I Can dig I.T: I respond to a colleague’s remark that I look like the 70’s cop ‘Kojak’ by doctoring his pass-card and calling him ‘Shaft’ for 3 months.

AUGUST: I Youthenize: ‘When I grow up I want to write PowerPoint presentations,’ said no child ever.

SEPTEMBER: I testiculate: Like gesticulating, but with more bollocks.

OCTOBER: ‘I react within a 5 day Service-Level-Agreement’: ‘Hey, how are you? What do you mean you can’t tell me till next week?’

NOVEMBER: I am a man of single-minded foh…
seriously dude, what’s with the violin?


DECEMBER: I integrate vertically: Christ, I hear my own words and don’t know what they mean anymore. I look at myself in the mirror and my reflection mouths ‘You’re an asshole.’ How do I find my way out of this labyrinth?

Being a grown-up isn’t what I thought it was going to be…


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Mountaineering in the age of feminism…

It’s the stuff of nightmares. You drive 200 miles to Wales, book a hotel, dress in appropriate attire for climbing a mountain, journey to said mountain, pay for parking, kneel down to tie your shoe-laces and hear the awful tearing sound of your ass making a bid for freedom (Yes, I know, very peachy).

unnamed-4Son of a bitch!

What was I supposed to do – drive the 10 miles back to the nearest town and buy new trousers? There’d only be more people there to notice my shame (plus, as aforementioned, I’d already paid for parking!)

The fog rolled in. Bonus, I thought (as well as added peril obviously).

These are the moments that separate the men from the boys. I kept my cool and asked the most pertinent question: What if women see me?

And then I realised there was a more pertinent question: What if my trousers fall down on a mountain in winter?

I checked the waistband. It seemed sturdy enough. One final question to ensure maximum rigour:

Is the exposed area cold?

I probed about a bit.

No, the exposed area is not cold.

I set off.

It’s fair to say that I was reasonably popular during the ascent (albeit largely with ladies of a certain age guffawing and threatening to manhandle me or poke my bottom with their hiking poles).

I’ve never felt so objectified in all my life. I mean, would it be OK for me to prod a random woman in the derriere just because it was on show? (This isn’t a rhetorical question).

Harnessing the raconteur skills for which I’m world-renowned I kept the feral beasts at bay whilst regaling them with fictional explanations of how my wardrobe came to malfunction. I then slipped on a wet rock and fell on my car keys, giving myself an epic dead-leg and tearing the trousers even further.

unnamedI made good my escape from the cackling hoards.

On the way down I encountered a Chinese businessman and his son. I knew he was Chinese because he told me. I knew he was a businessman as he was climbing in a suit and frock coat and carrying a briefcase.

We exchange frowns – me because of his formalwear and he because my attempts to face him meant that I was walking like a crab.

‘How much further to the top?’ The son inquired.

‘About an hour from here,’ I replied.

His dejected face prompted the father to bizarrely shout, ‘remember honour!’

We spoke briefly, but I was starting to feel a little chaffed, and I imagine he needed to dial into a conference call…

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