I’ve taken to wearing a crash helmet around the office. After the incident with the snipers over the weekend, I’m not taking any chances.
Maybe I should iterate. I am currently engaged in a feud with my boiler from which neither of us is willing to back down. There are some issues which can be resolved through a calm discussion over tea and biscuits, and there are others which can be resolved by taking an axe to the bugger. Unfortunately, this situation can be resolved by neither: an axe would be mutually detrimental and I have no biscuits, having used them all up in my last conflict with the shower. Therefore, we have reached an impasse: it is refusing to heat the upper levels of the offices and I am refusing to have it serviced.
I say impasse, now that the snipers have been deployed, the situation has escalated somewhat. As a result, I am currently cowering under the desk as I write this, waiting for the would-be assassin to reload. Then he’ll get a surprise.
In other news: the crisis at the BBC. Well, all I can say is if they’d taken my help when it was offered, they would not be in the mess they were now. It’s too late now, though, the damage is done, so it’s no good crawling back begging for help. This cat has led the rats off the ship.
Ah, I think he’s reloading. If you’ll excuse me… have at thee, you scurvy swine!