Have the Poles gone mad? I wrote off the communist witch-hunt, of which McCarthy would have been proud, as once-off silliness brought about by group shame of collaborating with the communist secret police. There was also healthy silliness – the Polish rock band Big Cyc (Big Tit), whose 4th album featured a nun drying condoms on a clothes-line.

But the silliness has taken a turn for the worse:

A senior Polish official has ordered psychologists to investigate whether the popular BBC TV show Teletubbies promotes a homosexual lifestyle. The spokesperson for children’s rights in Poland, Ewa Sowinska, singled out Tinky Winky, the purple character with a triangular aerial on his head. (source BBC)

Teletubbies are queer? What on earth has got into the woman?

It would appear that the affliction has spread to neighbouring Belarus:

Customs officers in Belarus have ordered drivers crossing over from Poland to carry a condom or be denied entry into the former Soviet republic, Polish customs officials claimed on Tuesday. The Belarussian guards have allegedly demanded that drivers include a condom in the emergency first aid kit which road regulations say they must carry. (source)

I’m racking my brains trying to think what the motivation could be.

  • Polish men can’t resist Belarussian women and Belarus doesn’t want their gene pool polluted?
  • Belarussian women all have the clap and their authorities want to spare the Poles? (seems unlikely)
  • Belarus wants to insult the Poles by implying they all have the clap?
  • Belarus wants to insult the Poles by implying they can only get it up once (by insisting on only ONE condom)?
  • The Belarus have a secret agenda in which condoms are used for something else than contraception?

If anyone has the true reason, please let me know :-)

I was working for a consulting company in Rome when I met one of the most crass, self-imbued turds I have ever had the misfortune to cross. His disdain for his fellow colleagues was boundless and it was mutual, not one of us would have urinated on Jay, even if he burst into flames.

One morning, nursing a grappa-induced hangover, I decided the time was ripe to give Jay a dose of medecine. My colleagues enjoyed it, I hope you will too.

Jay,
I am leaving [company] today and would like to take this opportunity to settle some things with you.

I’m writing this slowly as I know you can’t read very fast, so pay attention.

You might have noticed that subsequent to [company]‘s demise, things have been very trying for the team here in Rome. It certainly hasn’t even crossed your mind that a major portion of the grief we’ve been having is due to your crass, narcissic behaviour. For two months now you’ve been prancing around the corridors here like a bloated peacock on LSD, with hot air, vacuous promises and bovine excrement as your sole deliverables. How you could even imagine that [company] would actually take on a used-car salesman like yourself defies belief; it does however demonstrate clearly that your astonishing arrogance is matched only by your incredible stupidity. You have made an appalling image of our company and were you to have something other than dirt holding your ears apart you would be ashamed.

But I digress, I’m all for letting people fight their own battles, I have a personal axe to grind with you. You may recall that a couple of months back, when I resigned, I sent an email informing all concerned, in which I placed confidence in you to announce my resignation to the client at an opportune moment. A foolish mistake. Having made a complete botch-up of everything, you waited until we were re-negotiating the contract to make the announcement to the client at the worst possible moment. To worsen matters you did it behind everyone’s back and, spineless cockroach that you are, didn’t even admit to having done it. How you could try and sabotage so many of your own colleagues’ efforts to further your base little personal ends shows a despicable contempt. Fortunately the client saw through your miserable ploy, and we now all share a similar contempt for you. Truly, in the 25-odd years I’ve been working, you are the worst piece of scum that I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter.

Had you a less faulty gene pool, you would have learnt that the world is a small place and people that you slight often reappear later in a superior position. I sincerely hope that this will occur and given the opportunity, rest assured that I will ream you dry with neither hesitation nor remorse.

Lest you perceive anything cowardly in sending this message, fear not, I have communication skills that you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams. You might like to focus your cramped, porcine imagination on figuring out the extent to which I have have spitefully blind-copied this email >:-|

To avoid any ambiguity note that I write this from a purely personal stand-point; don’t bother trying to associate this email with [company], I’m reachable at the address below.

As you may well imagine, I never got a reply.

© 2012 Maurice's Musings