If you let the Poodle stand on your shoulders so that you can both get at the sossinges, the Poodle will Not Share. Take it from one who knows.
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Wot a kind, if gullible, Dunnock, givin’ a bunk-up to a needy Poodle. No gratitude, some hounds…
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The Poodle has such impeccable manners that she would let a human take the sossiges from her soft gentle mouth with no trouble
Possibly because her humans have taught her that humans share what the pack hunts
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Believe that if you want. Personally, I wouldn’t risk it. Nor would I particularly fancy the sausage at that point.
Did I tell you what happened to the colleague who snaffled half my bacon sandwich?
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[goes and gets a mug of FGD]
[sits back]
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Let us just say Blutack has applications which are… unadvertised but effective. I believe he still twitches a bit.
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“Oh, come on, Daddy, that’s not half a story!”
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Blutack poppets, wiv pins, popping up in unexpected places. Some of the pins were in fairly unexpected places, too. Exclusion from sandwich runs. Mysteriously vanishing coffee.
Nothing fancy.
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I w#rked, for a couple of years, in the private sector. We’d order our lunchtime sarnies from the kitchen. One day, having finished being scrubbed up until around 3pm, I looked in the staff fridge for the pack with my name on it. It was nowhere to be seen. The theatre manager told me that she’d given my sarnies to one of the consultants as he’d ‘forgotten to order his lunch’. I stomped right off to ‘his’ theatre and remonstrated such that he stopped scrubbing up and ordered a replacement lunch - consultant standard, doilies and cress, crusts off etc. I never would take any sh*t.
Soo xx
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AttaBee!
But
are our hardworking consultants getting enuff roughage? And will their hair ever curl?
And did the theatre manager get the poke in the eye she so richly deserved?
Gxx
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Yippee! Though he may not have realised it was yours, to be fair to him.
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With a name on it?
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Maybe she took it out of the packaging to give it to him.
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That is my style wee bee
Gus I trained a colleague not to steal from my little food locker with home baked goods
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Beat her around the head with a Victoria sponge, did you? ;- )
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Almost certainly. I’m guessing he didn’t go to the fridge his actual self, because Consultant…
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The blighter knew he’d eaten my bait. The terror on the theatre manager’s face when I stomped out of the rest room was punishment enough. The surgeon in question was an ill-tempered g*t. Happy days!
Soo xx
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It’s easier in a lab.
instant coffee → “Ferric Oxide”
milk → “Culture #476”
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No
I was subtle in my way of sorting the greedy brute out
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And?
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