from acorns great trees are grown. That is unless some cunt comes along and cuts them down, or poisons their roots.
I have a premonition. This week will be crunch city in our cozy little office world. The devil and his accomplice will play a long a turgid hand of strip poker which will result in turmoil but endwith their usual damp squib of pointless, badly aimed artiface, the Iraqies of office politics.
Our esteemed leader will self implode by thursday and start hrling pointless accusations and blame and all the usual rubbish.
The peokle will try to sccuort an ungalella campaign and fizzle quietly.
And we, well us we are naked in the field,and we know what's coming, win or lose we lose, a catchers glove full of dog shite is all that awaits us, sliding home to the home plate we'll only arrive smelling bad and looking like fools.
So, another week in paradise. Why on earth do i love it so?