How do you find work at the moment?
Because, let’s be honest, people – these are pretty freaky times and we’re all feeling the heat.
So, what should you do to improve your productivity and prove that you can be a good little worker bee?
Well, you can be seen to be working harder – which obviously sucks. Or you can start coming up with interesting ideas to your boss – but then he’ll probably nick them all, sack you and take the credit for them.
Or instead you could … have a power nap at your desk.
That’s the genius idea from the NHS’s ‘life coach’ Jayne Morris who has come up with the wizard plan to improve your performance – simply bring a pillow into work and when you feel a bit dozy, climb under your desk and catch 40 winks.
This has been dismissed as a load of nonsense by people who actually have a functioning brain and, to be blunt, being a ‘life coach’ carries roughly the same credibility as being a tarot card reader.
But Morris defends her idea by saying that: “In Spain it is customary to have a siesta in the afternoon.”
Yup, and when you see what great shape the Spanish economy is in who wouldn’t want to ape their employment practices?
Where the hell did he come from?
I love Easter.
From the time I was a kid, I always felt that Easter was, indeed, a time of renewal.
I don’t mean that in a religious sense, obviously, more the fact that it was the signal that spring had officially begun and we could all start to get ready for long, hot summers.
It seldom turned out that way, of course.
But it looks like the true meaning of Easter has been challenged.
The Anglican Church has just produced – honestly, is nothing sacred any more? – religious Easter eggs which feature crosses on the packaging.
Frankly, this is outrageous – everyone knows that Easter is all about giant fluffy rabbits that come down your chimney at midnight and leave eggs for the kiddies.
Why do people always have to bring religion into things?
Although I think I may be a bit hazy on the actual facts of the matter …
That’s what you call a sticky wicket…
Without being reductive and placing people into lazy boxes – heaven forbid your humble columnist would ever resort to such shoddy journalism – women are quite mad.
And there’s the rub: every woman I know can suss a bloke out at 50 paces, while us schlubs simply stumble through life trying to figure out just what we have done wrong and why the other half is ignoring us.
Indeed, there is no phrase more guaranteed to chill a man’s soul than when his missus says: “Well, if you have to ask … ” when you inquire what the transgression was.
And one of these relationship landmines is undoubtedly the old canard: “Does my bum look big in this?”
A new survey – and this is real, not a survey I just made up in my head – says that 35pc of men always lie and assure the woman that her bottom is perfect while the other 75pc (maths was never my strong point) try to make up some excuse.
And what does this prove?
Well, merely that only 35pc of men have the brains to stay well away from that potential fire storm while the rest are clueless idiots.
And going on the blokes I know – that would actually seem to be a pretty accurate number …
What a charming little man
I remember being in Maui a few years ago – ah, happy days – and all Hawaii was abuzz with the imminent arrival of something called Justin Bieber.
It would never catch on this side of the pond, I predicted with my typically erroneous confidence.
Sadly it has.
But we might be seeing the end of the Bieber phenomenon after he left kids waiting for two hours at the O2 in London the other night, forcing many to leave before he even came on stage.
The clean-cut image has been replaced by one of carefully stylised rock ‘n’ roll rebellion and I would urge you – keep an eye out for the little pipsqueak as he tries to become a rebel.
After all, when you have made your name by making Tweens faint, it should be amusing to see their reaction when he releases an “experimental” album to show he’s really, like, y’know, credible and stuff.
Really? Funny that
I think I’ve written before about my antipathy towards tattoos. Fine, if you’re a Russian gangster, Marine or a member of the Yakuza. Not so fine if you’re not.
Yesterday, I watched in horror as the story of English tattoo addict Matthew Whelan emerged.
Matthew has 80pc of his body inked but that’s not the worst of it – he has also had his eyeball tattooed.
Are you kidding me?
Dear Lord, I can’t even get contact lenses because if anything gets near my eyes I start to cry, scream and weep – in a macho, manly sort of way, you understand – so who on earth could put up with a feckin’ tattoo needle touching his cornea?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to get a little bit sick.
From www.independent.ie
Source:
http://justinbieber.blogm4u.com/2013/03/07/really-you-really-sure-about-that/