It has come to my attention that some of the girls in the office have been complaining about unwanted advances from the butchers. While I do sympathise with them somewhat (after all those butchers have awfully big, hairy hands), it’s just a bit of fun on their part and I'd hate to take away what little joy they have in their miserable lives. If I had to strangle 400 cattle a day I know I would find solace in chasing the girl from accounts down a dark hallway with my big, bloodied hands. To feel them, like two hairy hams, grabbing at my breasts like a hungry bird. I’d say no but really I'd mean YES.
Anway, some chap at the freemasons put me in touch with a firm who specialise in these new ‘training records’. Do me a favour and play it to the lads on the shop floor.
Podden och tillhörande omslagsbild på den här sidan tillhör
everybody panic. Innehållet i podden är skapat av everybody panic och inte av,
eller tillsammans med, Poddtoppen.
