Danger! Council at Work...

Project Management

A few lessons in life...

Lesson 1: A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower, when the doorbell rings. The wife quickly wraps herself in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next-door neighbour.

Before she says a word, Bob says, 'I'll give you £800 to drop that towel.'

After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob, after a few seconds, Bob hands her £800 and leaves. The woman wraps back up in the towel and goes back upstairs. When she gets to the bathroom, her husband asks, 'Who was that?'

'It was Bob the next door neighbour,' she replies.

'Great,' the husband says, 'did he say anything about the £800 he owes me?'

Moral of the story: If you share critical information pertaining to credit and risk with your shareholders in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.

Lesson 2: A priest offered a Nun a lift. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg. The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg.

The nun said, 'Father, remember Psalm 129?'

The priest removed his hand. But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again.

The nun once again said, 'Father, remember Psalm 129?'

The priest apologised 'Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.'

Arriving at the convent, the nun sighed heavily and went on her way. On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129. It said, 'Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.'

Moral of the story: If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity.

Lesson 3: A sales rep, an administration clerk, and the manager are walking to lunch when they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out.

The Genie says, 'I'll give each of you just one wish.'

'Me first! Me first!' says the admin clerk. 'I want to be in the Bahamas , driving a speedboat, without a care in the world.' Puff! She's gone.

'Me next! Me next!' says the sales rep. 'I want to be in Hawaii , relaxing on the beach with my personal masseuse, an endless supply of Pina Coladas and the love of my life.' Puff! He's gone.

'OK, you're up,' the Genie says to the manager. The manager says, 'I want those two back in the office after lunch.'

Moral of the story: Always let your boss have the first say.

Lesson 4:An eagle was sitting on a tree resting, doing nothing. A small rabbit saw the eagle and asked him, 'Can I also sit like you and do nothing?'

The eagle answered: 'Sure, why not.'

So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the eagle and rested. All of a sudden, a fox appeared, jumped on the rabbit and ate it.

Moral of the story: To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very, very high up.

Lesson 5: A turkey was chatting with a bull. 'I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree' sighed the turkey, 'but I haven't got the energy.'

'Well, why don't you nibble on some of my droppings?' replied the bull. They're packed with nutrients.'

The turkey pecked at a lump of dung, and found it actually gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. Finally after a fourth night, the turkey was proudly perched at the top of the tree. He was promptly spotted by a farmer, who shot him out of the tree.

Moral of the story: Bull Shit might get you to the top, but it won't keep you there..

Lesson 6: A little bird was flying south for the winter. It was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow dung, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy. A passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow dung, and promptly dug him out and ate him.

Morals of the story:

(1) Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy. (2) Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend.(3) And when you're in deep shit, it's best to keep your mouth shut!

It's Hot...Damn Hot

A Scottish couple decided to go to Spain to thaw out during a particularly icy winter. They planned to stay at the same hotel where they spent their honeymoon 20 years earlier.

Because of hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel schedules. So, the husband left Glasgow and flew to Barcelona on Thursday, with his wife flying down the following day. The husband checked into the hotel. There was a computer in his room, so he decided to send an email to his wife. However, he accidentally left out one letter in her email address, and without realising his error, sent the email.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Blackpool, a widow had just returned home from her husband's funeral. He was a church minister who died following a heart attack.

The widow decided to check her email expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message, she screamed and fainted.

The widow's son rushed into the room, found his mother on the floor, and saw the computer screen which read:

To: My Loving Wife
Subject: I've Arrived
Date: January 16, 2011

I know you're surprised to hear from me. They have computers here now and so you can send emails to your loved ones.

I've just arrived and have been checked in. I see that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow.

Looking forward to seeing you then! Hope your journey is as uneventful as mine was.

P.S. It's f***ing hot down here!

Exercise? I'm Knackered...

For the last few months I've had something of a routine in going to work. For the final part of my journey to the office I have been getting off the bus and walking about a mile which, if the weather is dry and there's not a hurricane force wind that Scotland is prone to, is quite pleasant and can psyche me up for the stresses of the day ahead. However, last week my daughter Michaela started a job in the office where I work - in the floor below, thankfully - which has meant she has been giving me a lift to work in her Forumla 1 vehicle (given the speed she drives she surely thinks she's competing against Sebastian Vettel and co.) Which has meant my little routine has ceased.

Being on leave this week I thought I would try and rectify this by purchasing an exercise bike for use in the house. The internet can be a wonderful thing and I checked out the on-line reviews before purchasing. Almost every reviewer said it was a good bike for its price although a common theme was the difficulty in putting it together. Disregard the instructions said one reviewer. The bike arrived today - tightly packed in a box with polystyrene that took several minutes to dislodge. The assembly instructions may well have been written in Chinese. Guide the lower part of the INNER cable of the tension control knob into the formed metal loop of the INNER cable of the tension cable. You get the picture. There were several references to a tension control knob. How I could have done with one of them for my aching, ageing body as I grappled with the machine.

The accompanying diagrams may well have been instructions to build a nuclear weapon - numbers here, letters there, numerous arrows pointing to every corner of the page. In the end I took the advice of the on-line reviewer and threw the assembly instructions away. Two hours later the bike has been assembled. But now I'm in a foul mood and have no inclination to set near the damned contraption.

Perhaps I should take up yoga instead...

Domestic disharmony

Who Cares?

The latest hoo-ha to hit the media is the fact the Sunday Herald newspaper, based in Scotland, has published the name of the 'Premier League footballer' who it is alleged took out a privacy injunction - a so-called 'super injunction' - against the users of  Twitter to avoid details of an alleged affair being published. Perhaps I'm just getting old but it saddens me greatly when the people of this country get themselves in a frenzy over the private lives of so-called celebrities. It seems to me the moral standards of the British public have seldom been lower.

Frankly, I couldn't give a Jonathan Ross about who does what to who and who with. There are serious issues around the world that need to be addressed but are seldom reported in the UK press.

It is estimated that 925 million people suffer from hunger. In 2008, nearly 9 million children died before they reached their fifth birthday. One third of these deaths are due directly or indirectly to hunger and malnutrition. Children who survive early childhood malnutrition suffer irreversible harm—including poor physical growth, compromised immune function, and impaired cognitive ability. Around the world, 178 million children under 5 are stunted, low height for age. Of all stunted children, 90 percent live in just 36 countries, most of them in sub-Saharan Africa and South and Central Asia.

Then there is oppression. Think Zimbabwe, Libya, Tunisia and Egypt. Oppressive nations do not care about human rights and freedom and the recent protests in Tunisia and Egypt showed that the people of these nations are tired of puppet regimes imposed on them by oppressors.

There are atrocities and people dying from starvation around the world. Not that this gets much of a mention in the UK press, particularly the tabloid press who feed the celebrity cravings of the masses. The media in this country  - and this includes television - has dumbed down to such an extent that ignorance is king. Tragedy is happening every minute of every day around the globe but as long as some D list nonentity is photographed coming out of Tescos or is lined up for some tedious mind-numbing 'reality' show then that's what really sells newspapers.

Surely this can't be right?

25 Years On...

Saturday 10 May 1986. The day my wife was due to give birth to our first child. When Saturday morning arrived I woke up to a bright sunny day in Aberdeen where we lived at the time. I brought Mrs Smith a cup of tea in bed and asked if she was okay. She smiled, thanked me and said she felt fine. ‘That’s good’ I said, ‘Because I’m going to the football’ Pat’s smile faded quicker than a bank manager’s bonus. ‘You mean you’re still going?’ she asked, somewhat incredulously. Time for quick thinking I thought to myself. ‘Well, yes, if you don’t mind. It is Aberdeen Hearts are playing and my mate  Graeme is giving me a lift there’ This seemed to placate my wife of less than four years. ‘But what if I need you?’ she asked. This was the tricky bit. ‘Don’t worry, darling,’ I replied, ‘I’ll phone you a couple of times to check how you are’

A couple of things here for younger readers and those who, like Pat, are not in the slightest bit interested in the beautiful game. Firstly, mobile phones were some way off general use in the mid 1980s. Those that were around tended to be used by high-flying business types and were the size of a small mid-terraced house. Therefore, my means of checking if baby Smith was on the way would be by the use of public telephones - call boxes. Secondly, I was factually correct in stating the big game was between Hearts and Aberdeen. And that my mate Graeme, an avid Aberdeen fan, would be driving me there. However, I did omit the fact that as the game was the Scottish Cup final it would be played at Hampden Park, Glasgow - 140 miles away. A fair point, I concede. I looked at it this way. Yes, my wife understandably wanted me to be present at the birth of our first child. As, indeed, did I. Nonetheless, I had to balance this up with the very real possibility that Hearts may never reach another Scottish Cup Final. I had followed the Jam Tarts for eighteen years up to this point and had never had a whiff of success. This chance might never arrive again. Whereas, there was a good chance my wife would have more children. So, off to Glasgow I scampered leaving a less than happy Mrs Smith and an outraged mother-in-law who threatened to decapitate me on my return (a tad harsh in my view)

Hearts lost the final 3-0 and it was a long journey back to Aberdeen in the company of Graeme who in the 1980s was getting used to seeing his team win cup finals. To his credit, he didn’t hang around much after the game and we headed back north in little under three hours. There I found a smouldering Mrs Smith still pregnant....

Saturday 17 May 1986. 3.25pm. Laura, a bouncing baby girl arrived and changed my life forever. It seems like yesterday - now she has three children of her own. The photo above was taken last week to celebrate Laura's daughter  - my gorgeous grand-daughter Ava's - first birthday.

Happy 25th birthday Laura. I'm proud of you.

ps thanks to those who have sent their best wishes regarding Mrs Smith's hospital admission last week. Since I last posted she was re-admitted to hospital on Saturday with more chest pains. Curiously, the large amount of tests she has had since going back in have not found anything amiss with her heart, other than it is slightly larger than normal (big-hearted Mrs Smith? Surely some mistake?) She is due to get out of hospital and return home on Wednesday, diagnosis as yet uncertain. It's a strange world we live in.