We've all received workplace questionnaires from the Narkover Institute of Management Studies. It's part of a survey that goes to inform the government's view of each council's improvement programme (every council in the country is required to have one and to demonstrate ongoing progress).
Salome's gone off on one about it:
"I don't see why I should do this. We did a staff survey just the other week." [last month]
"That was just the Helminthdale Council one. This one's different."
"Well, I don't see why I should do this one."
"It's more important because it goes into the government's appraisal of the council's improvement. Or not."
"Well, it doesn't say that in here. It's got nothing to do with the government. It's the University of Narkover."
"Don't fucking believe me then," I replied, turning on my heel.
3 comments:
Narkover? Well that explains it all if Beachcomber's lot are involved.
I was wondering where Foulenough had ended up, and now we know.
I was, a propos of not very much, introduced to a colleague who's been working for us for the last five years. Needless to say, this was our first meeting. I think her surname was Rustiguzzi. At least, that's what my crazed brain heard.
I think, "Don't fucking believe me then" can be used in any situation, to justify any argument. It's like an ipse dixit, but way cooler.
Webrarian: I think Foulenough is running a council somewhere in the south of Yorkshire.
Effing: I suspect it's going to be a support call standard.
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