We're taking a bit of a breather while the world rearranges its underpants. Meanwhile, the other blog is here.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Guarding the home of the home guard

It's true enough: nobody really cares what we do for a living so long as we turn up and attend to our desks for the alloted hours.

The other day we were being difficult and negative because we were asking sensible questions about performance targets.

Today we seem to be spending all day doing George Formby impressions ("with me grandad's flannelette teaspoons..." "I'm leaning on a lamp post on the corner of the street in case another box of book sale comes by...") And nobody minds.


Gadjo Dilo said...

You lucky buggers. Have you tried the I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue approach to Formby? "When I'm Cleaning Windows" to the tune of "Sexual Healing", etc.

Kevin Musgrove said...

Even worse, Frog gave us his impression of Formby singing a medley of Leonard Cohen songs and Sybil gave her impression of Leonard Cohen singing "When I'm Cleaning Windows." It was just like he was in the room.

The Topiary Cow said...

Not only does nobody mind, they probably prefer it.

Cow amuses herself occasionally by walking around the cubicles around 2 pm and seeing how many people are sleeping.

Sad, isn't it?


Kevin Musgrove said...

We call it power-napping

emu said...

no we don't: we call it keeping our heads down and butts covered