Monday, 2 July 2007


I am stunned by the sheer incompetence of some people at the Corporation.

Nearly two whole weeks have passed since I asked Silent Stevie to get in touch with the Pentagon A-S-A-fucking-P to figure out whether we could get their 'gay drug' on licence to use for a format that could punch through the schedules.

So imagine my fury as today I discovered that Stevie has yet to have a fucking conversation with ANYONE from the Pentagon! He muttered something about them not returning his emails, and how he'd done some 'digging around' on the internet and doesn't think that such a drug ever existed anyway.

This really isn't good enough.

If I say speak to the Pentagon I want Admiral Mike Mullen, the new joint chief of staff on the fucking phone...

If I say fly to the moon I want a letter of interest from Mike Griffin at NASA...

If I say infiltrate a swinging internet subgroup engaged in weird practises then I FUCKING expect someone on my team to don a pair of high heels and work the fucking weekend....

Is this too much to ask for??! How can My Channel win Edinburgh Channel of the Year at this rate?

I call Jessica in HR and ask her to investigate the terms of Silent Stevie's contract. Sometimes a good manager has got the unenviable task of letting people go, but luckily I feel no such conscience and look forward to FIRING THE LITTLE CUNT first thing tomorrow!

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