He has a fantastic work rate!

Evening!

As you'll be aware, my fellow work-unit has already entered a couple of posts to introduce this new blog, which will, in years to come be spoken of in reverential, hushed tones (hey, it's possible, I'm going with the multiverse theory. Actually, you're probably better looking at the fictional side of parallel universes, "SF you lied to me" is a rant for another time though.)

Anyhoo...this is just a short post to say "hi". You won't hear too much from me over the next couple of weeks as I'm currently sequestered in a tiny cell trying to complete my Masters dissertation, which will go some way to determining whether I get to have a proper, intellectually fulfilling career or continue to languish in one-step-up-from-McJob hell. Unfortunately, and this is the real killer, according to my tutor, it isn't sufficient just to bash out 20,000 words at random. For some reason they expect logic, coherence and evidence of critical thinking. It's staid traditionalism like that that is holding back humankind!

It has to be admitted that I'd probably have finished weeks ago if it weren't for my unfortunate habit of commenting on various blog posts and lurking while pressing "F5" every couple of minutes...

Toodle-pip!

~ Chimp-unit.

The comb and the car

As so often is the case, a customer will have to provide me with identification in order for me to process their request. Although when I ask for this, they sneer that they "don't have their passport" with them or "what do you mean you need the paper part of the driving licence?". Of course. How silly it is of one to hope that a customer has identification to conduct a financial transaction. What was I thinking?! I should just take them at their word and give them all the money that they have without so much as a question.

Today, however, a man did have his driving licence in with him when he wanted to make a withdrawal from his account sans le carte. So i'm looking up his account details and he passes me over his driving licence and I look at the picture on it. In the picture, a moustache is furnishing his top lip. I can clearly see that this is still the same gentleman. That said, it was at this point that the gentleman pulled out a black comb and brought it under his nose. I half-expected him to make a Nazi salute at this stage. "It is me!" the man doth protest. I then wondered if he carried the comb around on his personage just for this particular purpose. Wonderful.

Photo:




It's not every day you see a car like this right outside your front door...


~raccoon.~

Greetings!

Salutations!

Peace to the nations of Zion and Islam!

A brief introduction to the point of this website. Actually, there isn't much of a point to it. It's more an update to this blog when we can be arsed on a regular basis. We wanted to start a photography page where we can take photographs of random nonsense that we see. We could have made a flickr account! [In fact, we probably should do that too.] But then, we thought we also wanted to rant and vent a bit about the grim reality that is working for a fascist corporation. So expect some strange photographs followed by a bit of gibberish.

Enjoy!

~raccoon.~