Big Knobs Up and Down and Up and Down....

Dear Mr Big, Big, Big Knob- the Biggest Knob of all at the top of the tree. I know you offer a good renumeration package (oo-er look at me using big words first thing on a Monday morning even before the rest of the world is awake).

You, The Biggest Knob of all at the top of the tree, even though, having never as much as showed your face in the UK branches must have heard now about the enormous Cock Up faced by all your Knobs large and small over here because of one tiny slip of a floppy dics- namely Mines Mr Husbands. Let's face it who hasn't heard? It could of happened to anyone. Its amazing how quick the slip of a floppy dics can soon become an almighty Cock Up. And lets face it £70.000 is nothing is it? Tiddly amount of money. Its a pair of shoes or a new handbag for Mrs Biggest Knob of all at the top of tree- namely yours wife. Ok - so its quarter of a house over here- but Tis nowt to a man of your wealth. You owns half the world. I have even heard rumours that you pull ol' Obama's ding a ling string.

In my humble opinion this Cock Up wouldn't have happened if Mines Mr Husband had not had his promotion stolen from under his nose by the BNC (brown nose creep) aka BFG (Big Fat Git)- or as we like to called him Fatty Maccy D aka The Big Fat Burger and Beer King. How do I know this? Because he would have been engaged in something more meaningful at work, like his Internet Thingy, and not sat in the coffee bar pretending to be a coffee bar kid like the BFG. The correct floppy dics may have been correctly installed at the correct time by someone else. At the very least none of this would have been Mines Mr Husbands Cock Up. The whole thing is a farce from start to end. You have already lost one Little Knob because he didn't want twenty tons of burger bearing down on him day after day and belching in his ear. He had some good foresight for just a Small Knob. Even the BFG's spy is about to leave the camp- in truth the only friend he had. Oh yes, his little a spy. 'I spy with your little eye because I am too fat and lazy to do my own work' Spy. A slippery Knob if ever I met one. Not quite as subtle as spy penguin and not quite as cute, and almost certainly not as intelligent. But you know what they say, (who ever they are- I don't know who they are either, but they sure have a lot to say) when the going gets tough the spy penguin shits and splits. Or words to that effect. Now the Cock Up is more down than up and the ups and downs of the Cock Up are more or less back to normal, a state reached by Mines Mr Husbands own skill and patience I would like to point out that making him do an extra shift immediately on top of a completed shift - (one that contained more shit than a shared shit pit in Whimple) was a gargantuous farce. Not to mention unnecessary and downright cruel. Is it you that have to lives with him when he is like a bear with a sore head? No, tisn't - tis I. If you had been living with him you would not have had him do this-  and for what reason? To impress the Big Big Knob who is making another appearance again today to meet with other Big, Big knobs. And he won't even get to see Mines Mr Husband and thank him for his hard work and dedication to putting right a little diddly, squiddly shit of a problem because Mines Mr Husband is sleeping an unnecessary extra night shift off and that is why I am up at an ungodly hour writing this bloody letter to you. And you don't need to keep banging on about £70.000 feckin squids.

The Big, Big Knob has never been so actively up and down and in and out. Up and Down and in and Out. Up and Down and in and Out. And I still haven't got chance to discuss the net curtains and scatter cushions with him- or the 'Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam' thing. And I have had a good idea for a sticker chart for good behaviour and extra shifts completed.  I think now the Cock Up is over and neither up nor down can we just not put it to bed and sack the BFG? Can't we all just have a nice cup of Yorkshire tea and a Hob Knob (with chocolate on) and move on. We need some closure as ye Americans like to say. Oh and well ye are at it would ye like to buy a copy or two (cos' ye can afford two) of my book? Go on. And I won't kill you off in the next one!!