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Sunday, 4 February 2007

The Land of The Point.



Time for a bit of vicarious venom, I think.
A good chum of mine is busy trying to break her leg or contract green monkey disease so she will not have to attend a work conference at which, she knows only too well, she will have to proverbially dance the powerpoint polka.
The prospect of this useless, tedious and annoying annual get together prompted her to call on conferences to be Granthamed and I have to say I am happy to oblige.
I don't have to attend work conferences in my line but I have either covered them or been along to keep my soon-to-be ex-wife company at ones she has been to in the past. My experiences, therefore, have not been particularly souring - I got to stop in a hotel somewhere different, I got the chance to nick some new towels for Pither Towers, to add to my internationally acclaimed collection of plastic shower caps and to drink myself into a stupor, all at someone else's expense! Hurrah!
The poor saps who, however, had to attend the daytime talks, presentations, workshops, discussion groups and similar assorted bits of business bollocks were not quite so fortunate and they had my sympathy.
The focal points of all this crap are the loathsome "powerpoint presentations". They basically involve some git - who probably doesn't want to be there either - droning on and on and intermittently using an executive pointy stick to point to words he has just said but which are also on the screen behind him!! What (points to powerpoint screen) is the fucking (points again) point in that (final, vigorous point)? The room is always too warm, there is always the hum of the air conditioning and so it is hard enough not to nod off but then the subjects of these little slices of death make it almost impossible - "The 21st Century client and the continuing need for socks", "Cash flow projections for hosiery and associated sub-divisions of Pants R Us", "Know your customer, know yourself" and "Retail, rip-off and retire."
Then there are the completely facile "workshops". You sit around with a bunch of other pissed off people and try to thrash out some problem of great import, such as "Breaking into Taiwan with the self-assembly, flange-powered grommet leveller."
Alternative sessions challenge you and another bunch of idiots to fashion something like a serviceable spacecraft out of cardboard boxes and some party poppers left over from the Christmas party! Why? If it could be done, wouldn't fucking NASA have done it already?
The whole nightmare is usually rounded off by an address by the bloated, smug, Fascist git who runs the company and he or she tells you that while Nazi Knitwear "believes and invests" in its "team" it wants profits increased from the paltry 700 per cent rise this year to 8.5 billion per cent by this time next year. Fuck off!
My chum made the not too ridiculous suggestion that all this crap should be written down and posted out, thus saving on the expense of an hotel and the bar bills of men who have just gone along to keep their soon-to-be ex-wives company. The reason, apparently, is that everyone has to get together to "bond". If you actually WANTED to bond with these people, wouldn't you have done it already? You don't "bond" because the only thing you have in common is the fucking awful job you do. If you happen to quite enjoy your job you are tempted to believe it is fucking awful after you have attended one of these corporate scrums. It's like having to meet up with people you met on holiday - you realise on your return home that the only thing you had in common with them was that you were both on holiday at the same time!
No, corporate conferences (points with pointy stick) can go.

2 comments:

Scary Monster said...

OMG your fonts are huge!!! Me hate conferences and would rather spend me time giving some bird the works. Send all the corporate asshole to Grantham. Me wonders if there is an eqivalant to Grantham in Me neck of the woods

Barry Lawrence said...

Gotta be. Also, gotta be somewhere in Texas - any state that can spawn Dubbya and his brother deserves something back.

WEDNESDAY, 21 NOVEMBER 2007

SHORTS DON'T MATTER! 1. From the greatest programme ever made about association football, Barnstoneworth United FC manager Mr Dainty delivers one of the finest English soliloqiues of all time.......and afterwards, spare a thought for the club steward's wife Vera (YOU ONLY HAVE TO WATCH HALF OF THE CLIP!!).

Monday, 12 November 2007

Not everyone who agonises over their life is a painter. Some of us agonise because we're NOT painters.

....And On the Subject of Great Public Services

I know most of you have heard this marvellous song by those doctors who are the Amateur Transplants......but I think the video is a nice addition. P.S. If there are kids in the room I'd shuffle them out before hitting play.

...There's More

On the subject of those great doctors, here is their version of More Than Words which presents their challenging views on women outside Watford. The very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither, coming from Cumbria, is a huge fan. Again, get those kids out of the room!

Leave Britney Alone, Ok!!!

Oh...........my............God!!!!! My heartfelt thanks go to BGT for this. I won't say much more, I don't need to. Mr Loony of Loonytown, USA (I think it's a bloke, anyway), says it all. I fear he may be wound too tight for.....well.....well for everywhere, really!

Tuesday, 18 September 2007.

I wish I'd sung this! For non-Americans, and with apologies to all the smart arses out there who already knew, the FCC is the Federal Communications Commission and it monitors TV and radio output in the States - a sort of broadcast police - while the EPA is the Yanks' so-called Environmental Protection Agency, a body which does exactly the opposite of what it says on the can. (P.S. We went to the same school, you know? Eric and me, that is, not George, Martha, Dick and Condoleeza and me. I don't think they went to school.) P.P.S. Please see below if you are I Like The View, Malc or Doris.

To Make You Laugh and Cry

I was listening to this on a Sunday, the very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither is a Catholic, Tom Lehrer is one of my all-time heroes and this is one of his best.............no other reasons. On a more sombre note (and with thanks to Fish for coming up with this Woman's-Own-passes-the-time-in-the-dentist's-waiting-room nonsense), why not get a computer to tell you that you are a waste of space and your life is a sham of a mockery of a farce? Ok, it's from one of those poxy dating sites but...go on, take the test. You ain't got much to beat!!
This Is My Life, Rated
Life: 4.2
Mind: 4.1
Body: 2.7
Spirit: 8
Friends/Family: 1.6
Love: 0
Finance: 5.9
Take the Rate My Life Quiz
Apparently, in my case, "computer say 'no!'"

I First Saw This When I Was Little - And Loved It! I Hope That Explains a Few Things

Fuck, Fuckety, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck

It has been pointed out to me that, particularly for one whose profession is supposedly literary, my language is getting worse. My use of the "F" word is, I am told, far too prevalent and hence loses impact. To those who share this view I suggest you watch the following:

Tony Blair Isn't a Burglar - But If He Was.........

In the spirit of Gustav Holst's Jupiter and Manfred Mann's Earth Band, I feel like raising a smile today. The Big Green Thing alerted me to this and, for no other reason than to raise a smile on an otherwise crap Wednesday, I think it has to be shared. Grantham shall not have him - when he gets out of prison.

Life On The Edge - No Net.

I was wrong when I feared it might be a dull weekend, what with my pals being away, my soon-to-be ex-wife in rehab and only the dogs to play with. How wrong can a man be? This much fun must surely be illegal? Just click to see the japes and hoots I am having! Click again to see how things got REALLy exciting! Tomorrow we're going to chase pigeons.

The Good Old U.S. of A. - Guardians of Freedom and Democracy. Nothing to Be Scared of, Then?

Be honest........

IT'S THE QUIZ OF THE WEEK! JUST SCROLL DOWN AND HIT "FULL QUIZ".