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IQ Test

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“Your IQ is significantly more powerful than the average for your income bracket.” *blush*. It appears I’m only being paid for a small percent of my IQ, something I’ve been telling my manager for at least a year. Try out the Guardian IQ Test yourself. Go on.
See the full glory by clicking the picture below.

iqtest.jpg

New Phone

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So, after its 32nd accidental drop in a year, I’ve upgraded my phone. The poor thing was barely able to keep all it’s broken bits together – the screen was grazed, the battery wobbled, and the next step up, a Nokia 6310i, was looking exceeedingly cheap. I waltzed in to Carphone Warehouse, and met Michelle’s friend the manager, angling for a cheap ‘mate’s rate’ deal. All manner of other phones were on offer, some probably better than the Nokia, but I refused, reminding them that I needed one that fitted my integrated carphone. Replacing that would cost another ?150, and spare money is not in abundance at the moment. So, after a while of comparing, we plumped for the one I originally wanted, and left the building. I was very pleased. I reached my car, jumped in, and slotted it into the carphone holder.
Which, unaccustomed to the new phone, promptly broke.

So Close to a Lot of Money

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My manager and I popped out at lunchtime yesterday on a mission – to transfer 5000 pounds in cash across Guildford High Street in broad daylight. I was to be the ‘heavy’ – escorting her all of 500 yards up the road to another bank (if any armed robbers are interested, we’ll be doing the same again at 1pm today…). It was a precision operation, and would have gone faultlessly had I not stumbled upon a large key lying in the middle of the street, evidently dropped by a hurrying shop girl. I picked it up – it had a tag with a person’s name on it, and a safe code. And the name of the shop – House of Fraser. My situation at this point: I was next to a woman holding 5000 pounds in an envelope, and was holding the safe key of the largest department store in Guildford. I could have solved all my financial debts in mere minutes. Sadly, I have a conscience (and no suitable weapons), so after safely depositing Rhonda at the cash desk, I wandered down to House of Fraser, and as I handed over the key to the manager, wondered which one of the poor, quivering temps behind her was about to recieve an early Christmas present from the recruitment office.
While all this was happening, Shunta was buying someone a very nice Christmas present. But, needless to say, I’m sworn to secrecy for the next 7 days…

Manager

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After this weekend, I’ve come to the conclusion that there should be an added clause in work contracts – if you socialise in the same town as your manager, on no account should you talk to each other outside of the office. This became especially true last night, when for the second time in as many weeks, I found my manager, who is a picture of authority and efficiency by day, in an impressively drunken state in our local nightclub. The whole authority aspect has taken a battering – I can barely look at her without smirking now. In her words, “Oh my god, I never want to see you again, i’m far too drunk”. I hope she was joking; I’m expecting to turn up for work tomorrow…