O Re-bully a bully today.

Don't you just hate bullies? There are two types of bullies: There are bullies who bully because they can and you can't do anything about it. They not only have power, they have authority and they use it to make you fear them and their uberness. They think they are superior to you in every way and enjoy letting you know everything you like, everything you do and everything you say is worthless crud. You're there because the bully hasn't bothered to remove you yet and believe me, that day is coming.

Then there are the more compassionate bullies who like to tease but also stop to help you out if you're in a jam - but they'll still tease you about it later.

The latter is an irritant, the former a God damned nightmare.

It so happens I've worked for a couple of bullies and indeed, that was the case in my most recent job. Anyway, I wanted a certificate of separation for my own selfish reasons and was told on my last day that it would be posted to me. Two weeks went past and still nothing, so I ring him and ask what's happened to it. I get a curt response, "I'll check with payroll where it's at."

Excusing the poor grammar, I thank him for his time and hang up. Friday, nothing. Monday, nothing, so I ring again. Same answer. Tuesday, nothing, so I ring again and this time I give him my fax number. Wednesday, nothing so I ring again to be told the fax number I gave him doesn't match the one on file. (I doubt there IS one on file.) It can't be faxed because we can't guarantee the security of the fax. I pick myself up from the floor and tell him the fax is in my kitchen. He also tells me he's not the postman therefore there is nothing he can do about it.

Today I ring him and get this same rubbishy sort of response so I tell him, it's now 1pm, and if I don't receive a fax within the hour, I'll take the matter further. He says "fine, take it further."

So I emailed his boss - the CEO of the company and sent a copy BCC no less to one of his underlings in the department saying if I don't get that fax by 4pm, I'll take the matter further again. It took me 45 minutes to craft, the fax arrived 90 minutes later, 45 minutes inside my deadline.

I came this ---> <--- close to texting his mobile phone to say "See what you can do if you really try." But I didn't.

So, what, you might ask, did I put in that email?

Well I'm glad I asked myself that very question on behalf of all of you.

About 2 months ago, the fat bastard turned on me. We were matey for 2 months prior to that. When he turned, I bought a diary - one of those big jobbies of things you get at newsagents when they're cheap in April and they're trying to flog them off at a 75% discount. They make a loss, but they want the space and what in God's name am I going to do with a damn diary of all things? I've got a blog. I don't want a diary.

But under the circumstances, I just thought it'd come in handy. I kept in the backpack I took to work every day - disdaining the impractical briefcase because such things are pure wank anyway - and every time I felt slighted or caught the boss doing something he ought not to have been doing, it all went in the diary.

Today, the diary disgorged its secrets into an email 2 A4 sized pages long.

Naughty naughty boss.

One of the other chaps who departed the department a few weeks earlier was terribly thrilled to get the news and hear this bit of gossip and promised to contact the other kids still there and get the lowdown on the fallout for me. Out of compassion, I emailed a copy to him. (He rang me up and we laughed hard. Compassion be buggered, we revelled in my bit of revenge.) I told him he could make use of the information in any way he saw fit, and far is it for me to dissuade him from making full use of his right to freedom of expression.

H - I - N - T H - I - N - T.

Didn't say any more than that, but what better vector for revenge than youthful exhuberance.
Liam the Hobbit - as he was affectionately known only to me - because he reminded me of the other Liam of internet fame, the Yoblit of Canuckstan - with whom everyone falls instantly in love without having the slightest idea why. Yoblit, old son, perhaps you might think of changing your nick to Liam the Likeable after that particularly amusing episode of Get Smart.

I forgot what else I was going to say so I'll say something else I wasn't thinking of before I had something else I wanted to say. (Don't look at your screen like that, you'll get a bad case of the blippies.)

The other something else I just thought of - the latter else, not the former else - was to do with blogs. If I come back before midnight and blog something else - which if I go surfing the blogs again is very likely to happen - it'll appear above this entry. On other days in the last week when I've done just that, I look at the earlier entry and the opening sentences just look totally out of place. It bugs me for two reasons: firstly, because it makes the first sentences look totally out of place and secondly because I know it's just too much of a hassle to try to edit it so it doesn't look out of place. Changing stuff makes it look forced and I like wordage to flow like warm honey.

And a last bit of info for this entry, the blippies are those looks you give something you don't quite understand and probably won't take the time to examine carefully enough. Blippies have one thing their favour. They are not gawpies. Gawpies happens when you DO take the time to try to get your head around what it was that gave you the blippies in the first place.