Hello Campers, hope your not getting rising damp with all this warm summer rain.
I was eating my breakfast this morning whilst listening to Charlie and Louise on BBC Breakfast, she was very chirpy and he was his usual arrogant self. They were talking about a new film with Jennifer Aniston about bad bosses and two thoughts went through my head, one was that I better avoid that film and the other was about the worst boss I had ever had.
I then thought, how many employees of Rupert Murdoch wish it was them who planted a custard pie in his face? Never mind they can join the queue of people waiting to stick the dagger in his back.
It reminds me of I Claudius, I initially thought Rupert would be Tiberius, old and perverted and fearful of assassination but then I recalled his son James sat at his side during those Select Committee hearings and realised he was more like Caligula - the Emperor who made his horse a senator - well Murdoch didn't make his horse a senator but he did promote a horses arse!
Over the course of many years I have lost count of the bosses I have worked for, but there are a few who still come to mind. There was the man who could never look you in the eye when he spoke - he would look up at the ceiling or out of the window as he told you how useless you were. He was the sort of boss who never offered praise he only ever spoke to you to tell you how bad you did the job. He was detested and I was told that one disgruntled staff member actually went to his office one night and crapped in the middle of his desk.
There was another boss who was renowned for his nasty streak, in fact the only thing he seemed to show affection for was his prize rubber tree plant. I was assured this story is true and that one day, whilst he was out of his office, someone went in and used a pocket knife to cut two thirds of the way through the stem of the plant and then made good his escape. It was two days later that the thing toppled over right in the middle of an important meeting.
I had my own run in with a certain man whose sense of humour had been surgically removed at birth. One day after a very angry run in with him I returned to the office I shared with many others and I saw the Pirelli calendar on the wall. Now this man had the habit of reading everything then adding his initials to show what a busy boy he was so I wrote on the calendar - 'there are some big tits in this calendar but none are as big as me' - I then signed his initials to it.
Everyone thought it was hilarious - except the man himself. He confiscated the calendar and demanded to know who had written the offending comment however on this occasion he was bettered by one of my work mates who reported the calendar stolen - it was quickly returned.
Mrs B and I once shared a certain female boss - she was bloody awful and we tried our best to avoid her at all costs. She once called me into the office to ask why Mrs B and I never joined the rest of the team when they went out for a drink - my response was "I'm paid to work with you, not to like you nor socialise with you". We never got asked again.
There was one boss who was very approachable and had this habit of asking if you had any ideas about how things could be improved. I decided one day to have a good rant about one aspect of the job and the boss listened, nodded and then said - OK, I'll put you in charge of it - sort it out!
All these years on and I still have not learnt to keep my mouth shut.
I had bosses who were always on the golf course or the snooker table or putting their wages into a fruit machine, I had bosses who tried to stop me and Mrs B from getting married and I had bosses who did all they could to make sure we could.
Of course now I am my own boss (unless Mrs B is at home) and nobody has to crap on the desk although I did once find crap under the desk - not sure of it was Jake or Danny!
OK, nothing more to see here - move along please.