Sirtfood Diet: Week 2. Well, there was no Week 2. There was Week 1 and then there was none. I don’t give a toss whether Adele, Jodie Kidd and Lorraine Pascale love it – and, let’s to be fair, the last two aren’t exactly “big boned” – it’s over.
I mean, there’s only so much green a woman can eat and drink before she needs CHOCOLATE and wine and I must confess I much prefer the Merlot and Green & Blacks diet than the “shitfood” one.
Still, I’ve had much more important matters to attend to this week on account of both McFatty and McFatter having had their Oxford Astrazeneca Covid jabs.
Now, according to the guidance, the side-effects for those who have had the vaccine can include pain, itching or bruising where the injection is given, generally feeling unwell, feeling tired, chills or feeling feverish, headache, feeling sick and having joint pain or muscle ache…
I’m afraid working with people who’ve had it can also make you suffer from the pain of having them blab on about how they are generally feeling unwell, feeling tired, chills or feeling feverish, headache, feeling sick and having joint pain or muscle ache… And that was just Monday.
Luckily, they are both over it now and back to their normal selves – although, of course, that is relative.
And following Elon Musk’s decision to change his job title from CEO to “Technoking of Telsa”, with the company’s chief financial officer Zach Kirkhorn being officially designated “Master of Coin”, here at Decision Marketing we’re all looking for new job titles too.
After all, if it’s good enough for barstaff (beverage dissemination officers), wet leisure attendants (lifeguards), media distribution officers (paperboys), education centre nourishment consultants (dinner ladies) and vision clearance engineers (window cleaners), it’s good enough for us.
As I do virtually everything round here, one wag (well, McFatty) suggested I call myself “Chief Stick A Broom Up My Arse And I’ll Sweep The Floor, Too, Officer” or CSABUMAAISTFTO for short. I’m sure you know where I told him to ram that.
It’s still a work in progress – and your suggestions would be much appreciated – but my esteemed boss has let it be known he wants to be called “El Presidente”. Then again, he can call himself what he likes, but he’ll always be the “fat old bloke stumbling around the office pissed as a fart” to me.