When puddings turn bad

I was in the break room at work making coffee when one of the senior managers burst through the door.  He was quite flustered and started talking loudly to one of the customer service team who thought they were going to be having a quiet coffee break.

They were wrong.

He was talking (or half shouting) about an on-going complaint we’d received from a customer who had become seriously ill whilst on holiday.

“Apparently it’s semolina poisoning!” he half shouted.

I stopped making drinks, turned and smiled, “Did you just say semolina poisoning?”

He turned to me with a face of genuine, serious concern.

“Yes”

“Really? Semolina poisoning?”

“Yes!”

Ok then.  I won’t argue.  Your education probably cost more than mine.

salmonella

What I really think of Pandas

Pandas are idiots.

panda-fail

  • “What did you just say?  Are you mad?”    
  • “Pandas are cute and cuddly and adorable!”   
  • “They look like oversized teddy bears”
  • “Coochicoochicoo”

No, sorry; you’re all wrong.  Pandas are idiots.

Don’t misunderstand me, they DO look cute but it’s all a lie; a ruse to shield you from the fact that they are unfathomably stupid, fat, bamboo chewing twats.

How can we add any level of credibility to a species that simply won’t procreate?  How hard can it be?  (Pun intended)

Their species is endangered (no surprises there) and it seems we work hard to get a boy panda and a girl panda together for some serious (and often heavily televised) jiggy jiggy.

And do they get funky with each other?  No.

The female panda usually rejects the male panda for some stupid reason or another, blah blah blah….

Have you ever watched the news reports on these ‘stories’?  The reporter delivers it with an ‘ahh, isn’t it cute and adorable’ smile, but their lifeless eyes tell a different story.  They’ve died inside; died I tell you.  Their career has hit rock bottom and they know it.

Yet there they stand with their manufactured smile and microphone in hand.

“Ling Ling is still rejecting Ping Ping after her 12th day with him”.

If you ask me, Poor Ping Ping isn’t getting Ling Ling on his ding-a-ling.  I feel for him, I really do.

Eats shoots and leaves?  My arse.

And of course these big, fat, hairy mimes have no idea they’re endangered.  But that shouldn’t make a difference.  It’s just hardwired into the male of a species to pork the female of the same species (unless the male is a dog and the female is your leg).

Are we flogging a dead horse when we have to artificially inseminate a female panda with the sperm from a male panda that is sat 12ft away playing with his perfectly functioning dick?

panda-play

That’s not right is it?

Also, we gloss over the poor person who had to wank* off the male.

Ha ha, ‘gloss over’.

“What do you do for a living mate?”

“I’m a wanker”

Maybe we’re going about this all wrong.  Maybe we’ve overlooked something obvious?  What about putting the female in some sexy underwear?  What about a little mood lighting and Lionel Ritchie?

panda-bra

Nope, straight to the plastic syringe full of panda paint.

Not once have I suggested to my wife that we get out the turkey baster.  If I did I’d end up looking like a panda.

But seriously, alarm bells should be ringing here.  These creatures either WANT to be extinct, or are simply too stupid to save.

They say that pandas don’t know how to procreate because they ‘haven’t been shown’, but that’s got to be complete bollocks, surely?  I saw a documentary once that had a TV in the panda enclosure showing a DVD on how to procreate.

Yes, that’s right, it was playing panda porn!

I pity the cameraman on that gig.

panda-porn

This creature has more sexual hang-ups than a bondage dungeon.

It just grates on me that so much time, effort, money, paperwork and stress goes into getting two pandas together from opposite ends of the globe, only for the female to take one look at the male and say “nah”.

Typical woman.

Although, when you think about it, maybe the female panda is turned off by the fact that the boy panda looks exactly like her. That would make sense.  After all, who actually goes and fucks themselves when asked to?

Not enough people in my opinion.

By this reasoning, any pandas that DO mate successfully are therefore either incredibly vain, borderline narcissistic or mentally unhinged.

Put a mirror in the enclosure and sit back.

Stupid pandas.

tree-panda

*jerk

He shoots he fails!

I have never referred back to another person’s blog before, but there’s a first time for everything I guess, like skydiving or licking a pensioner.

I subscribe to a great blog (which I highly recommend) and today she was talking about the stresses of packing a suitcase.  I must admit I’ve never had too much of an issue, but then again I spent a lot of my youth playing Tetris.

Plus, once you’ve been made aware of the ‘socks and pants stuffed into your shoes’ trick it’s safe to say the feeling of smugness overrides the feeling of despair at not being able to fit in yet another t-shirt which you’ll inevitably bring back unworn and full of creases.

The one part of her post that really resonated with me was that moment an item you’ve lost suddenly (and maliciously) turns up after you’ve asked someone to help you look for it.  And I don’t mean you find it quicker, I mean it is sitting there in plain sight where you’ve already looked a dozen times.

Bastard.

This got me thinking about the opposite of that when you’re unable to recreate an awesome moment because you have someone there to witness it.

Case in point…

A few weeks ago I was sat in the break room having a sandwich.  It was late in the afternoon which meant no-one else was in there.

Perfect.

As I finished my sandwich I looked over at the bin, which was about 8 feet to my left, and smiled as I picked up the foil my sandwich had been in and screwed it up into a ball.  Then, with my right arm, I threw it casually sideways over my head without looking and, not only did it go in, it didn’t even touch the sides!

Boom!

I performed an airgrab, accompanied it with something like “Yeah, get in there!” and then went for a high five only to realise no-one was there to witness it.

Cock.

It could have bounced off a cupboard, ricocheted off the fridge, rolled along a shelf and been scissor-kicked into the bin by a passing mouse and it still wouldn’t have made the blindest difference.

No witness means I could have just made it up.

Yet if there HAD been someone there I wouldn’t have been able to hit the bin if my life depended on it.  It may as well be 50 feet wide and house a black hole inside, sucking in the universe, and I still would have missed on an epic scale.

“I got it in last time!”

“Of course you did Dan, sure you did”

ball in bin