Tag Archives: rant

…It’s just been revoked

How I yearn for the halcyon days when, having been slighted in some fashion, a chap could challenge the offending cad to a duel, get up at the crack of dawn, fire a musket round through his heart and be done with it.

Simpler, happier times.

Fast forward two hundred emasculating years and we’ve evolved to mumbling ‘That’s the third time you’ve incorrectly formatted this spreadsheet. Prepare to feel the wrath of my carefully-worded-so-as-not-to-get-in-trouble-with-HR, passive aggressive, sent before running away, email.’

He won’t do that again the cheeky little expletive-deleted.

Of course he will. I am powerless to stop him.

At the office I’ve been lobbying for a practice along the lines of the police’s guns and knives amnesty – a ‘Bring your rant to work day’ if you will. For one glorious day of the year you could saunter up to the lazy, ineffectual office gimp and, with complete impunity, bombard them with the abuse they so richly deserve, before putting the secretary across your knee as punishment for that memo she badly typed six months ago (it’s the only way she’ll learn). So far my suggestion has been met with stony stares and a call for me to go on something called ‘gardening leave’?

My female boss clearly doesn’t understand me.

But flippancy aside (I don’t advocate the spanking of women except by mutual consent) you have to be careful. For example – I was once sitting minding my own business when the following message arrived in my inbox:

‘Dear Martin, I am writing to let you know that I am having a name and gender change. From now on I shall be known as Rachel. Yours, Richard.’

I met with Rachel for lunch. For the sake of argument I’ll refer to her as ‘she’ even though, at this stage, she was still packing heat. Rachel wasn’t a happy camper and told me that she was in the process of making  a formal complaint. Management were refusing to let her  use the women’s toilets even though she was dressing and living as a female in preparation for the full op.

I said to her that she was a genius and that, if I got the use the women’s loos, I’d wear a dress to work, at which point she made a complaint about me.

Women eh! Cuh.

On a related but reversed theme I would encourage you to check out the very fine blog of Transman: http://theadventuresoftransman.com/

Also: In the interest of merciless self-promotion I have set up a Facebook page. If you feel so inclined please like it, love and cherish it, print it off, mulch it down into papier-mache and make your very own blog-based companion etc. I thank you.


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The sick, the lame and the criminally insane…

I’m writing this entry on a scrap of paper, six hours into a hellish British Rail-hilariously detouring-replacement bus-journey between Stafford and Reading – stranded in Watford of all places (nowhere near either!) The idea of the trip had been to get a much needed break from endless commuting – A plan now well and truly knackered.

‘Frustration’ is very much the word of the moment – bored with corporate life, unable to get any literary body to recognise my work for the undiscovered work of genius it so clearly is (!) and watching as the slowest, most jam-packed train in the world pootles down the track whilst a woman next to me rips into to her husband on the phone; chastising him for not being a mind-reader and getting the evening meal ready too early

What to do?

I’ve used the trip to start writing in earnest again for the first time in about three months – a story based on a phrase my father used to say in the eighties – ‘We’ll take anyone here – the sick, the lame and the criminally insane.’

There’s nothing more frustrating than when the words won’t come, and by contrast, nothing more elating than when they do. 

Having garnered some much needed inspiration, I now feel better prepared to endure the final five legs of my journey, and am less likely to take a member of staff hostage and barter their life in exchange for a refund…

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