The Life Of A General Assistant At Tesco (part 2)

John Hosier is the savour of all teenage fuck-wits at Tesco. He is the union rep of all reps. He is the man solely responsible for saving the jobs of all the general assistants who do something wrong, be it something small like saying ‘Cunt’ in front of a customer, or gross misconduct like ‘half inching’ a dented tray of quality streets on the night shift because they were damaged and couldn’t be sold in that state…! I nicknamed him Flanders from the Simpson’s because of his finely groomed beard and sunny demeanour.

‘’Alright Flanders, guess what?’’ I said.
‘’Your pick rate is shit and you got to have a meeting upstairs?
‘’yep haha, will you come with me?’’
‘’Of course I will, anything to get out of this shit fucking job.’’ Replied Flanders.

Now bearing in mind he is on the union and he’s over fifty, he had a surprising hatred of the establishment at Tesco and referred to them as ‘a bunch of Cunts’ on many occasions. In-fact most of the times I would come round with my trolley the first thing he would say to me was, ‘’you know what they are don’t you?’’ and I’d go ‘yeh I think so,’’ then he would say, ‘Their a bunch of Cunts,’’. That was John.

So the meeting is being prepared and you are asked to wait in the canteen while they get there fucking note taker ready and make sure their pens are full to the brim with ink. This was always a lonely experience, sitting in the canteen with just a cup of manky water waiting to get in trouble. One time I started playing pool while I waited and got down to the final black when they called me in but I was so into the game I kept them waiting for like 7 minutes. When I eventually went in they asked why I had taken so long and I just said, ‘’sorry, I HAD to pot the black.’’ They weren’t amused.

We go in. I’m always really crap at keeping serious in situations like this when I know I’m in trouble, and that pisses them off even more.

‘’Right Carl, as you know I’m Alan Carter and I’m taking your meeting today, you know why you’re here don’t you?’’

‘’Whatever, can you just give me the warning because I got a shit load of trolleys to do and your wasting my time as well as your own sitting here telling me how slow I am,’’ I replied.

‘’Excuse me, he said, ‘’can you not take that tone with me. Were here to talk about your sickness the other day,’’

Now this confused me. I had briefed Flanders about the pick rate level, not about me throwing a sicky so now I had to make it up and hope he followed along.

‘’The main issue I have is that you didn’t call in, you just didn’t show up and that is a serious violation of Tesco rules that could lead to a dismissal, ‘’Said Carter.

Time for some quick thinking….

‘’I did try to call in but I had lost my voice with the illness I had, when I phoned the manager answered and they couldn’t here what I was saying so I hung up.’’

This was of course a big ass lie. I looked at John and he was struggling not to laugh but he kept his cool, you could see he was loving it.

So the meeting went on and I lied, and then I lied some more, before finally ending with an even bigger lie. They then ask you to wait outside while they consider the verdict. John comes out and tells me that I am hanging on by a thread but he could definitely get me off with a warning. He also calls me ‘a cheeky cunt’ for good measure. Here’s the best bit. He then goes in and tells them stuff like, ‘He is really sorry that he lost his voice’ and ‘I am sure he wont do it again, I’ve had a chat with him and he’s assured me of his remorse’. Blah blah blah. I didn’t even get a warning in the end, just a ‘next steps’ guideline to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

The Life Of A General Assistant At Tesco (part 1)

It’s 7:15am and I’m getting dressed to go to work, it’s a bit of a chore as I hate pulling on the blue shirt to be another nobody, that none of the managers really care about. Ah but am I nobody?!! Because lo and behold, I have a name badge. That’s it. That is the only thing that separates us all so I suppose i should be grateful. It’s a bit shit that on the way to work all I can think about is how much i don’t wanna be there, and people, that’s BEFORE I am even through the doors of death. So I arrive, there’s no drum roll, there’s no one waiting outside in the pouring rain to ask for my autograph, and there’s certainly nobody offering a good morning and how was your evening last night, just me and my shadow. I glance at the time and yes I am officially two minutes late, but I think to myself it will be ok as I’m sure no one will care….WRONG! all of a sudden I’m pounced upon by the store manager himself, Jason Banks (I won’t use his real name for legal reasons but if you change the ‘A’ to an ‘I’ in his surname that’s his real identity…..woops).

‘why are you late, why haven’t you shaved, why are not wearing the correct trousers, where is your name badge?’ bellows Banks.

Now bearing in my mind i have only been up for about 17 minutes and i haven’t even bothered to do my flies up yet, you can sympathize with me if I look like I actually don’t give a shit. I gently inform him that although he may be correct on three of the four points he has made, I do in fact have my name badge. Unfortunately this leads to him promising to take the smile away from my face. I thought to myself, well come and see me in about an hour and i promise I won’t be smiling, I will be sick of the sight of Tesco loo roll, or Value chops.

So, after the initial ‘pleasantries’ are over, I make my way to the dotcom area to load up the old trolley and say hello to the dot-com girls. I can’t clock in because I haven’t got a fucking clue where my card is, and to be honest i again, don’t give a fuck. The manager, Nicola Boyce, is barking out orders, what pick rates she wants etc etc…and then she turns to me, the scruffy, bleery eyed state at the back of the building.

‘Carl, I need you to work extra fast today as your pick rate has been letting the side down for the past month, If you don’t then we will have to have a chat upstairs.’ Great, I’ll get the biscuits and you bring the tea I chuckled to myself…

12:13PM, my pick rate is so low that a midget could touch it, and I know I’m in trouble. Mainly because I have just spent the last two hours with Simper (the wine guy and general funny man) hiding in the lift. That’s what we do. When we get bored, we hide in the lift. Up and down, up and down. I don’t think the managers have a clue which is why when were in there we can’t stop laughing at our naughtiness. It doesn’t matter if your 12 or 21, hiding is still fucking funny and exciting. Once, a fat man called Dave Manning got stuck in the lift, although he wasn’t hiding, he was going for lunch and just couldn’t be arsed to take the stairs. So he spent about an hour in there with no food, just his regrets. Rumour has it that he got so hungry he started to eat himself but this is yet to be confirmed.

On dotcom, if the item that’s been ordered isn’t available you have to exchange it for something that’s pretty close to it. On this particular occasion I decided it would be funny to exchange four pints of milk for a litre of mayonnaise. I didn’t know a ‘MR B DAVIES’ so what did I care. Unprofessional yes, funny, very much so. As I make my way to the dotcom base I am stopped in my tracks by the boss, who has a face like a slapped arse. In general her face was like that, even when she wasn’t angry so it was tough to tell the difference.

”Carl, your pick rate is unacceptable, we are having a disciplinary meeting, do you want any representative?.

Of course I do, now where’s John Hosier……..

Cowlsey Finally Admits..”I’m Not Real!”

One of the worst kept secrets in the world has finally become public property today, after Huntingdon plank Mark Cowles finally admitted that his existance in our lives is ‘just an illusion.”

Cowles, 23, came clean after an incident at friends Liam Murrays bbq left him with no alternative. He was playing that ‘tennis on a pole’ swing game thingy in the garden when upon rotation of the string, the ball was seen to go right through Cowlesys body and continue to go around. The incident was seen by hapless Albanian Alban Mulaj- Graham and father of the year Josef Fritzl, who was on day release from Peadoland.

Mulaj-Graham said, “Well we have all suspected that Mark wasn’t a true physical presence in our lives for a while now but we had no proof. Sure he casts no shadow, never burns in 1000 degrees of heat, and never seems to get wet when we go swimming but all of this didn’t mean he wasn’t real. I just thought, well, I didn’t think anything to be honest as I was rubbing myself with Ice cubes.”

He mumbled on, “I smacked the ball really hard with the leg of lamb i was chewing and it flew through the air. Mark just couldn’t get out of the way in time, and then to our astonishment, but not ‘surprisement’, it went right through the cunt and carried on round. I didn’t see anything else because the ball came round and cunted me on the head, knocking me squarely to the ground. I then weeeeeed on myself a little.”

Austrian legend Fritzl added, “Cowzeees face just dropped into hiz handze. He knew zat iz sekret wasss out. My penis waz out but zat is unrelated to zis story.”

According to the news helicopter that was circling the sky above the garden waiting for something like this to happen, cowlsey looked devastated.

Pilot John Spunk said, “we had an awesome microphone rigged to the bbq and one in the lounge so we heard everything. Cowles called all his friends into the sitting room and said he needed to come clean about something. They asked what. He said this statement:

- I know what you just saw and now i feel it’s time to come clean about myself. I finally can get this off my fake shoulders, I am not a real human-being. I am a spirit sent from hell to make you guys feel better about yourselves on a dailly basis. Hopefully I have been doing a good job.

The speech was met with a rousing reception but unfortunatley not everyone was listening fully. Best mate Kris Head jumped up to hug Cowlsey but ended up falling straight through him, tripping over, and smashing his mug clean through a glass table splitting his dome in 56 places, forcing him to retire from living. He died covered in glass shardes and burger source. Our thoughts are with…him??

Although we fully confirm that this story did happen, and Kris Head is actually dead, we were unsure that the pilots real name was infact John Spunk. Before going to press our editor in chief Bobby Slitface confirmed that this was true, adding, “hahah I wouldn’t like to be that guy, what a ridiculous name.”

Slitface has been confirmed as being a deluded Cunt.

 

 

I think WE ALL want this to happen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Curiosity Killed Our Cat

A local Huntingdon family has accused the owners of the curiosity shop of murdering their beloved pet cat Dennis.

The Looney’s, Cindy and Randy, who live on the high street, said that they had reported Dennis missing a few days earlier and were ‘absolutely fanny flapped’ when upon walking past the shop window, they saw a stuffed cat that looked ‘Identical but maybe a little different to Dennis, because we had never seen him dead before.’

Cindy, 48, told of the mental anguish and ‘unexplainable damage’ the sighting had caused her and her husband, and has called on the police to investigate this possible act of butchery.

“We are sure this is a revenge attack from the Snodgrass’s(Curiosity shop owners). We had a bit of a run in with Frank Snodgrass the week before Dennis went missing. He tried to park his van in our personal space and unfortunately for him Dennis was sleeping right in the way. When Snoddy beeped his horn, Dennis waved his paw at him as if to say, “Cunt off Cunt”. Snoddy was absolutely livid.”

With a croaky and distressed sounding voice, (imagine gargling vinegar mixed with bricks), she went on to tell how she woke up one morning without the furry feline nestled tightly against her husbands ball sack like usual, and doubts were immediately raised as to the health of the ageing mogster.

“I felt it was a little odd, Dennis has cosied up to Randy’s undercarriage for some 16 years, why would he wake up one morning and think, ’nah, I just don’t fancy that tonight’, it didn’t make sense so I went downstairs to see if he was about, and to my absolute shock and horror, he was not.”

With the Cat unaccounted for, and the Looney’s in desperate need of answers, they were ‘curious’ to speak with Frank and Eileen Snodgrass to see if Dennis had given them anymore jip after the first altercation.

Randy, 56, said, “We went to the curiosity shop with good will intended. It’s true that I have always wondered what the fuck they sell in there but have always been too proud, and afraid, to go in, I guess you could say I’m just not that curious. I wouldn’t give Snoddy the pleasure of seeing me, in my size 8 shoes, standing in his place of business. But I thought he may know something. When we approached the shop we saw what appeared initially to be a huge painting of former art attack presenter Neil Buchanan, but as we got closer, we realized it was in fact Dennis, stuffed and for sale, less than a quid.”

With tempers and emotions running high, Randy, (or Randford as his close family affectionately know him as) burst in the door and planted an absolute gem of a left hand on Snodgrass, but unfortunately it was wife Eileen and not Frank, and now this has led to a charge of ‘GBH’ being counter claimed by the tiresome Snodgrass’s.

With the court case looming, Cindy Looney has urged the DNA people to check the DNA of the stuffed animal, to see if it matches that of Dennis.

“He only got his teeth whitened the other week so they should have all of Dennis’s records if they care to check, but knowing the DNA people, they probably won’t give two hoots about a Cat that quite frankly was on its last legs anyway.”

Up to this point Frank Snodgrass has denied the claims, and released a statement defending his himself, his wife, and his weird and creepy shop.

THE STATEMENT: ‘I FIERCELY AND WHOLEHEARTEDLY DENY THESE ABSURD AND INSANE ACCUSATIONS AGAINST ME, MY WIFE, AND MY WEIRD AND CREEPY SHOP. I WILL CONCEDE THAT ME AND DENNIS DIDN’T SEE EYE TO EYE BUT THAT’S BECAUSE I AM AT LEAST 6 FEET 3 INCHES TALLER AND THAT’S WITHOUT MY LOAFERS. THE TRUTH IS HE NEVER LIKED ME, I THINK THOSE LOONEYS FED HIM A CRAPLOAD OF FALSE JARGON ABOUT ME AND HE MADE IT HIS SOLE MISSION TO SHIT IN MY POND EVERY OTHER NIGHT. THIS SAID, I DO NOT CONDONE VIOLENCE IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM UNLESS IT INVOLVES KERRY KATONA OR JORDAN BEING STABBED TO DEATH WITH A BLUNT PENCIL. I DID NOT KILL THAT SORRY OLD CAT.

The case continues.

*Art attack legend Neil Buchanan last night clarified that no one has ever painted a picture of him, naked or otherwise, and stated that he never liked art, he only liked the underage girls that used to mob him in the street.

He is not a convicted Peadophile.

.

Our little rap about the delightful people Jobcentres across the land have to deal with.

One and the Same lyrics…

Love and Jealousy, We’re one and the same

The deadliest potion when looking for someone to blame

Looking through me like a hollow memory

I’m sitting wondering who did you really want me to be?

You’re thundering eyes, tainted lies, the cold stares

Me positive, even though I’m stripped bare

You didn’t care, buried your head in your phone

As I sat on my own thinking of ways to pick up the tone

I never wanted to go home until then (no)

I never wanted to have to try and comprehend that we failed again

As the rain came down,

Silence in the room filling it up like an unfunny clown

Uh,

Stop to think and frown

I blink and the years have seemed to come right back around

Same place as before but it’s me who’s staring at the door

Contemplating my next movement and thought

Could be crucial because I don’t wanna react and regret

But at the same time I can’t just forgive and forget

Uh, I can’t carry on like this no more

Something’s gotta give like the rich to the poor

So what you wanna do? Power held in your beautiful hands

Heal us or kill us, I hope you understand?

Your finger on the trigger and I’m ready to die

Time to decide if the love is worth the fight

 

Walking on tip toes throughout the house, I did

Looking at my reflection is the mirror I did

Feeling it deep down in my stomach I did

Knowing the cracks were getting bigger, they did

 

I sat down beside you and took your hand in mine

Tried to get you to talk and let me get inside ya mind

Looking for signs, ways I could repair what broke

You never spoke, body language so cold

I want you to know we can get right back on track

This derailed train can get its destination back

And I’m falling and falling into this hole, I look up

No outstretched hand, you weren’t there to help me up

So,

I guess that’s that, I’ll pack my things and leave

Sometimes I sit and still think this is so hard to believe

Sometimes I’ll reminisce the laughs and the cries,

The good times, the memories, everything entwined

And I hope I’m still in the back of your mind

Eyes locked across the room, passion raging inside

A teenage dream now split at the seams

A ‘tell it to your diary’ kinda love

Know what I mean?

 

Walking on tip toes throughout the house, I did

Looking at my reflection is the mirror I did

Feeling it deep down in my stomach I did

Knowing the cracks were getting bigger, they did

 

Time heals wounds but scars don’t fade

When I see you now, sirens go off like an air raid

Don’t know what to say, how to act

Nod my head keep moving or stop and engage in heartless chit chat

I think I’ll keep moving because it’s best for both of us

Two different stories. You know, Love and lust

I couldn’t give you that rush, you couldn’t give me respect

So let’s put an end to a love that’s now dead

 

Walking on tip toes throughout the house, I did

Looking at my reflection is the mirror I did

Feeling it deep down in my stomach I did

Knowing the cracks were getting bigger, they did

Formula 1 preview 2011

Pre-season testing is never an easy thing to try to form an accurate opinion on what we can expect to see at the start of the year. Different tires, different fuel loads, different set ups, and different approaches. Some teams, particularly those in search of sponsorship, will do a number of headline grabbing ‘glory runs’ to try to sell themselves to potential big buck corporations. The price to pay of course is that they deviate away from what they actually should be doing, focusing on understanding their machine. It’s pretty much a waste of time in my opinion because even if they get the sponsors they will be struggling on track, where it matters. Swings and roundabouts. Anyone that knows anything about F1 will understand these tactics anyway so it does surprise me when the sponsors fall for such a dated trick.

Other teams will sandbag as to not give away their pace to the their rivals, thus surprising them come the first race. Unfortunately for Mclaren, they are just slow so far. And not only that, unreliable, which is like a very toxic poison in the F1 world. The start of the season looks like it may be a bit of a struggle for the silver arrows but one thing I will say about Mclaren: They are probably the best team at turning a slow car fast. I remember a couple of seasons ago they literally went from the back to the front in 6 months. Almost unheard of.

Personally I think Ferrari, in the hands of Alonso, are the team to beat closely followed by the Red Bull duo and I wouldn’t be surprised if the top 4 grid order for Australia contains a Ferrari, a couple of Bulls, and maybe a Mercedes. As a fan of the old veteran Michael Schumacher I was very concerned by the first few tests but since they put the upgrade on the car it seems to have worked a treat with Schumacher setting a blistering time in Barcelona on Friday. The package also received a glowing report from Nico Rosberg so Mercedes are looking in decent shape now.

In the mix with Mercedes are a host of teams including Renault, Williams, Sauber, and Torro Rosso.  Renault look to have a good car but I really think they are going to miss Robert Kubicas style of driving. He has a great ability to drive the car on the nose and on the edge lap after lap and although Nick Heidfeld is a very solid replacement I just can’t see him being anything other than a consistent points scorer. Vitaly Petrov, I think will struggle further with the added pressure of Kubicas absense. Williams are a team I would love to return to the front of the grid. I have a lot of respect for them and If the car is as good as it seems then Rubens Barrichello might sneak a cheeky victory. Sauber look strong but with two in-experienced drivers their progress will be limited. The middle of the pack is going to be more competitive than ever this year with Torro Rosso looking quite handy and Force India somewhere in there too.

The teams in year two of their existence will be looking to close the gap to the big boys with Lotus probably leading the way from Virgin. Usually I’m very supportive of the underdog but I really think Hispania are a joke outfit. I know there are a lot of people who work very hard there under a very limited budget but they have missed all the tests and are again turning up at the first race without turning a wheel in anger which is not only dangerous, but also a bit unprofessional and unfair on the drivers. What is the point of being in this sport if you can’t ever move forwards? They are going to be a real liability and are likely to be some 8 seconds off the pace. The drivers have no understanding of the new Pirelli tyres, the new rule changes, the car………screams danger to me.

I just can’t wait to smell those exhaust fumes through my TV screen come Melbourne…

Gentlemen, start your engines…(If you can Hispania…)

One And The Same – Lyrics

Love and Jealousy, We’re one and the same

The deadliest potion when looking for someone to blame

Looking through me like a hollow memory

I’m sitting wondering who did you really want me to be?

You’re thundering eyes, tainted lies, the cold stares

Me positive, even though I’m stripped bare

You didn’t care, buried your head in your phone

As I sat on my own thinking of ways to pick up the tone

I never wanted to go home until then (no)

I never wanted to have to try and comprehend that we failed again

As the rain came down,

Silence in the room filling it up like an unfunny clown

Uh,

Stop to think and frown

I blink and the years have seemed to come right back around

Same place as before but it’s me who’s staring at the door

Contemplating my next movement and thought

Could be crucial because I don’t wanna react and regret

But at the same time I can’t just forgive and forget

Uh, I can’t carry on like this no more

Something’s gotta give like the rich to the poor

So what you wanna do? Power held in your beautiful hands

Heal us or kill us, I hope you understand?

Your finger on the trigger and I’m ready to die

Time to decide if the love is worth the fight

 

Walking on tip toes throughout the house, I did

Looking at my reflection is the mirror I did

Feeling it deep down in my stomach I did

Knowing the cracks were getting bigger, they did

 

I sat down beside you and took your hand in mine

Tried to get you to talk and let me get inside ya mind

Looking for signs, ways I could repair what broke

You never spoke, body language so cold

I want you to know we can get right back on track

This derailed train can get its destination back

And I’m falling and falling into this hole, I look up

No outstretched hand, you weren’t there to help me up

So,

I guess that’s that, I’ll pack my things and leave

Sometimes I sit and still think this is so hard to believe

Sometimes I’ll reminisce the laughs and the cries,

The good times, the memories, everything entwined

And I hope I’m still in the back of your mind

Eyes locked across the room, passion raging inside

A teenage dream now split at the seams

A ‘tell it to your diary’ kinda love

Know what I mean?

 

Walking on tip toes throughout the house, I did

Looking at my reflection is the mirror I did

Feeling it deep down in my stomach I did

Knowing the cracks were getting bigger, they did

 

Time heals wounds but scars don’t fade

When I see you now, sirens go off like an air raid

Don’t know what to say, how to act

Nod my head keep moving or stop and engage in heartless chit chat

I think I’ll keep moving because it’s best for both of us

Two different stories. You know, Love and lust

I couldn’t give you that rush, you couldn’t give me respect

So let’s put an end to a love that’s now dead

 

Walking on tip toes throughout the house, I did

Looking at my reflection is the mirror I did

Feeling it deep down in my stomach I did

Knowing the cracks were getting bigger, they did



Personal Problems On Facebook

I can never understand why some people feel the need to post personal problems on Facebook. The bottom line is this: Why, oh why, would you want 512 ‘friends’ to know everything about you? I have 464 friends on my Facebook and I probably speak regularly to about 20 of them. I would find it a little strange to know that they all can see what’s happening in my life and I haven’t seen most of them in years. But yet every morning I get up, have a little look on there, and find out more than I need to know about some people.

Sometimes I’ll go online and post something funny that happened, or that I know others will enjoy. Sometimes I’ll go on and post a good quote that I have thought of or heard if I think others will benefit from it like I did. But rarely, if ever, will I go on and air my dirty laundry in front of the worlds eyes. Simply because It’s none of their fucking business.

We, as humans, are our own worst enemy in the sense that we can create some amazing things with our Intelligence, yet in the same breath totally destroy them. It is not Facebook’s fault, It is the idiots that use it in totally the wrong way.

It always makes me laugh when the same people who post every detail of their being online are the same people who say, “Mind you’re own business and stay out of it,” when anyone comments with an opinion. Eh? Sorry, but you made it everyone’s business when you put those digits into the status box and hit post. Are you a complete moron? Are you posting to get a reaction from the one person your disses were aimed at because if you are you seem to have forgotten all the other keyboard warriors chomping at the bit waiting to throw in their views . Why not phone them personally, why not inbox them, hell why not talk to them face to face?

It’s fine to have a rant, state an opinion, about general stuff. But I don’t think It’s fine to make your life entertainment for other people at the cost of your dignity.

It’s not an attractive quality…