I work for a Government department, which has to reduce its admin budget spend by some 30%. I love my job and also quite like being paid. But they need to get rid of some of us, and they are choosing which ones by March 2011.
So, answer me this: what’s a good way of making your boss believe you are indispensable and/or fantastic?
Without scaring him.
Obviously, being consistently brilliant at my job over the last 5 years would be a good first step. But imagine I forgot to do that bit.
Wel,l we forgot to make ourselves sufficiently employable to have proper jobs at all recently, but perhaps you readers have managed to hang on to yours. In which case, please share your secrets in the comments.
What says Christmas more than a spot of linguistics? Lots of things. But ignore those, and concentrate on the following question from Nick in Norway:
Do Christians get offended when people write Xmas instead of Christmas?
I can imagine that if I was a massive Jesus fan, I would get a little annoyed if people replaced the name of my no.1 saviour with an X.
Personally, I’d’ve been more offended when Xtina Aguilera appropriated the device. But linguistically-nettled Christians have got a massive back-catalogue about which to be aggrieved, as this abbreviation for Christmas has been in common use since the 16th century. And the ‘X’ shorthand for Christ has been in use way before that, after Emperor Constantine I took a fancy to the ancient Greek chi rho christogram* in an ecclesiastical dream, then made his troops slap it all over their armour to help them win the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in 312AD. Not sure Jesus would have loved that either.
*NB a christogram is not some sort of service where Jesus shows up at your door and sings Happy Birthday to you.
Harry in Kent has written in to shed further light on one of last week’s issues:
You were talking about why do restaurants say something is “86” when it’s gone.
I used to work for TGI Fridays and when I was being taught the lingo and trained (like you need training to serve burger and chips), I was told that there was a story about a man who tried committing suicide, and jumped off of the 86th floor of the Empire State Building which is the observation deck.
There is the second part to this story that if the item comes back in stock then it is 68 because the suicide attempt failed as the guy hit/landed in a window-cleaning dolly on the way down, at the 68th floor and was seriously injured BUT did actually survive.
Make of it what you will considering this is just a TGIs urban myth.
I love the idea that TGI Fridays has its own catalogue of urban myths and linguistic quirks. Anyone know any more? Tell us in the comments. No doubt the unique vocabulary concerning onion rings alone could fill a tome.
Remember a few days ago, when Britain was still capable of having conversations about things that aren’t SNOW? Me neither, but SNOW-free Episode 159 is a throwback to those clement times:
This classic episode is available to BUY NOW for just 79p at the Answer Me This! Store, through a secure server, without DRM restriction. CLICK HERE to find out more and support our podcast. (This helps keep our most recent episodes free)
Topics on this week’s crib-sheet include:
SNOW
litigious Times New Roman
Shetland ponies
the Mildenhall treasure Jacob’s Ladder
the Crusades
zebra piss
londonollypics.com
flattering spectacles Kramer vs. Kramer
the BBC vs. Boston Business Computing
laser eye surgery vs. A Clockwork Orange
Las Vegas vs. Trafalgar Square
pet griffins
the Crystal Palace water-towers
the penalty for banging Prince Philip
cybersquatting
Stanmore the Monkfish
the MGM lion
and
Martin the Sound Man’s favourite fountain.
Plus: Olly salves his wounds from losing last week’s Queen’s Speech debate by triumphing in his other specialist subject: Macaulay Culkin’s uncredited early work; tedious stories thwart Helen’s attempts to compose the Zaltzman family tree; and Martin will sort out your myopia for a fiver and a bucket of chicken wings, no questions asked. Also, this week’s Bit of Crap on the App describes an inappropriate use for a lovely dollshouse (clue: it’s not this).
In the event that you too have things to say that aren’t about SNOW – preferably QUESTIONS – then please get in touch by leaving a voicemail on the Question Line 0208 123 5877 or Skype ID answermethis, or emailing answermethispodcast@googlemail.com.
If you can make it through the SNOW, then please come along to one of our imminent book readings and signings – there’s one in London this weekend, 3.30pm on Saturday 4th at The Social on Little Portland Street, then there’s another in Brighton, 7.30pm on Wednesday 8th at Waterstone’s Clocktower.
It’s been a terribly cold week, so I do hope Ben from Bedford possesses a good woolly hat:
I am a man of age 23, and my hair is thinning quite a bit around the expected baldy man bald patch area toward the crown, as well as receding at the front.
Luckily I am quite tall, and only ever really get comments (from heartless cunts) when sitting down or being followed down some stairs for example. My dad is a baldy, as are my grandads, so eventual baldness is entirely expected.
So, answer me this: what am I to do? Should I shave my hair immediately and no longer delay my fate? Or should I cling on to some variety of hair style until my head becomes completely follicularly barren?
A challenge for you, readers! We received the following email from Woody:
James Bond films are on the television every bloody day, and two major features run through each film: shit one-liners after a procastinated death of an adversary, and James Bond shagging every female character for no reason, other than to pass time.*
If you’ve recently woke up from a 50-year coma and stopped off here for a cultural catch-up, that’s pretty much the size of it. Thanks Woody. But where’s he going with his pithy precis?
Answer me this: what is the total number of female characters which James Bond has sex with, in all the movies?
So, there’s that one he has sex with in a mini submarine, the one with the thighs of death, the one he gets a bit rapey with….yeah alright, I have a strong aversion to Bond and there’s no way I’m sitting through all 60000 hours of the franchise to answer this question. But chances are at least one of you has, so tell us James Bond’s magic number (it’s definitely more than 007) in the comments and we’ll send you an Aston Martin in the post.**
*Woody is forgetting the time when James Bond has sex with Denise Richards for the sole purpose of making the most soul-destroying pun of the 20th century.
**We won’t.
Unsurprisingly, our debate last week about listener Kev secretly feeding his vegetarian wife sausages polluted with meat-juice sparked feisty responses from you. Most suggested that Kev’s being a bad egg (and likewise Martin the Sound Man for abetting him). And here, for the sake of variety, are some of the rest. Read the rest of this entry »
In this special commemorative plate of podcasts, Answer Me This! Episode 158, we join in with the national celebrations of the romance of our age. For finally, after years of waiting, years of frustration, years of public speculation…Pudsey Bear is finally getting his end away.
This classic episode is available to BUY NOW for just 79p at the Answer Me This! Store, through a secure server, without DRM restriction. CLICK HERE to find out more and support our podcast. (This helps keep our most recent episodes free)
We also mention:
Wills’n’Kate (o jubilate deo!)
Marilyn Monroe
humanure
the US Weather Bureau
Dolce’n’Gabbana
Audrey Horne
augmented reality vs. unaugmented reality
Jean Paul Gaultier vs. dog saliva
Dexter’s bloody cologne
pox patches
the true meaning of eau de toilette
the Queen’s blingy carriage
and
the unsung beauty that is Robert De Niro.
Plus: Olly surmises that the West Country is boozed up to the eyeballs 24/7; Helen gives tips for turning your unsightly syphilitic blemishes into a join-the-dots game on your face; and Martin the Sound Man manages to compare the Gospels to Rashomon and the other religious texts of the world to something far worse. This week’s Bit of Crap on the App is a question from Curtis from Guildford about what we’d call a games console if we were to invent one. Luckily that day is far, far off.
We also have a bit of a disagreement about which of the Queen’s speeches is actually the Queen’s Speech; help us settle it once and for all:
You can send us QUESTIONS for future shows by leaving a voicemail on the Question Line 0208 123 5877 or Skype ID answermethis, or emailing answermethispodcast@googlemail.com. And if you’re a student, unemployed, or have an unusually generous lunch hour, please pop down to Rough Trade East at noon on Friday 26th, which is where and when we’ll be doing a reading from our book and signing copies. We are also available for signing wedding certificates, will forms, decrees nisi, blank cheques…
Rory from Stourbridge but in London writes to us on prison notepaper:
On the 10th November there was a demonstration in London about university funding. I got carried away in the moment and ended up wreaking havoc at the Millbank building.
I have calmed down a bit now and have begun to think that this might be quite a defining moment of my youth.
So gang, answer me this, what were the defining and important moments of your youth or life so far?
I wrought a disappointingly small amount of havoc in my youth, so am turning this one out to you, readers. Go to the comments and recount your youthful havoc there. And don’t forget to wipe your feet on the way in.
Believe it or not, many of you have been asking where you can buy defacedsigned copies of our new book. Bless you, dears, with your inexplicable desires!
Well, now said desires can be vanquished by our favourite local bookshop, Bookseller Crow in Crystal Palace; where you can now buy copies signed by all three of us for £9.99 including free UK P&P.
You can buy copies via this page on their website, or call them on 020 8771 8831, or just walk into their shop (as long as you don’t walk out again without paying).
You can still buy unsigned copies from everywhere else, of course, and graffiti-tag them yourself.
If you think joining your family for Thanksgiving this week is going to be awkward, you’ve got nothing on Michelle from Tennessee, who writes:
So if my dad divorces my mom to marry her twin sister, am I obligated to to eat dinner with them at a restaurant when his dying brother comes in from another state? I want to visit with my uncle, but think the situation is a load of crap and typically don’t attend events with the newlyweds.
I can see why you might have a teeny tiny problem with your dad marrying your aunt, but I suggest that if you can’t arrange a separate date to see your ailing uncle, you should overcome your distaste for the happy-but-wrong couple just this once and join the dinner. You have limited opportunities to see your uncle, but plenty more opportunities to snub your father and your stepmother-aunt.
Michelle’s supplementary question is, fortunately, a bit less like a Greek tragedy:
How many employees have to work in an office for it to exceed the office birthday party limit? We are up to 30 employees and it seems like every week we have to clandestinely contribute money for cake and sign a card. We get it; we all have birthdays. If I donate $2 per cake, I’ve spent more than just buying my own birthday cake and eating the whole thing myself.
Here’s a plan: every worker chips in to a cake fund from which, once a month, your office buys a communal cake. Anyone whose birthday it is during that month gets an extra-large slice, and maybe a round of applause. Sorted! (By the woman who works alone and therefore takes the cue for her office birthday celebrations from Tom Hanks in Castaway.)
In last week’s episode we asked you to bemoan the goods your parents gave you, and duly you did bemoan:
Megan in North Walsham: My brother and I seem to have inherited opposite traits from our parents. My brother has inherited my Mum’s maths brain (she can barely count) and my Dad’s slim lovely ankles, whereas I have inherited my Dad’s better than average maths brain, and my mum’s horrible fat ankles. Just thought you’d like to know.
Lucy from Edinburgh: I wish I hadn’t inherited my Dad’s hatred of people or his singing voice.
Cara from Orkney: From my parents I inherited: left handedness, AB negative blood, osteoporosis (something to look forward to!), idiopathic scoliosis – although they reckon that it’s genetic – absolutely no arm muscles whatsoever, the ability to be good at most things but not quite good enough to be great, very small teeth, long, slim legs and crippling shyness.
Amber from Kansas: I inherited my father’s good looks. As you can see by my name, I’m a woman. I’m not saying I’m manly-looking. The giant rack I inherited from my mother helps.* Also my Dad is a baby-face and the roundness fits on a woman just as much as on a man. However, there are certain haircuts that I avoid like the plague, as I’ve had more than one relative mistake a picture of me with shorter hair for that of my father! One aunt in particular cheerfully asked where my grandmother found “all these old pictures of Oggie (my dad’s nickname).” It was a stack of pictures of me at various ages.
I would have preferred my Dad’s inability to procrastinate. Instead, I look like him as a boy. Excellent.
*Another bit of genes I wish hadn’t manifested themselves. Back pain and trying to shop for shirts that don’t a) make me look like a skank or b) make me look 30 lbs overweight are things I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Elly from Somerset: What I got: mum’s shortness (I am the shortest in my family for generations, and my brother is 6’4″) and my dad’s under-eye circles and keratosis pilaris. Not fetching aesthetically. I really would’ve preferred my mum’s tits and ability to do well in exams with no revision, combined with my dad’s ability to tan.
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