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Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

~ The Home Pub of the Famous Pink Drinks and Trotter's Ale

Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

Category Archives: Emmjay

A Small Flat Biscuit – Discus

17 Monday Jun 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay, Foodge Private Dick

≈ 12 Comments

Taste testing the new biscuit sensation
– apologies to AFP PHOTO / ANDREAS SOLARO
the devil made me do it.

Story by Emmjay

“It’s too thin !”

“It’s supposed to be thin. How else will it come out thin ?”

“I dunno.  You’re the chef.”

“Let’s give it a go. After all, what have we got to lose ?  If it isn’t right, I’ll make another batch thicker.”

“I reckon he’ll be chuffed – what with no donations coming in, this is going to be a bigger hit than Girl Guides bickies.”

Granny’s delicate rear end disappeared into the gleaming stainless-steel palace aka the Pig’s Arms kitchen.  

Foodge heard the distinctive clunk of the stove door.  Or was it Granny’s dentures falling out again ?

She re-emerged and motioned Merv to whack a glass canoe of Trotter’s Ale on the counter.  Times two.

The conspirators twittered as their plan started to yield a toasty goodness smell that permeated the front bar, rousing the patrons’ appetites and prompting orders for Granny’s famous wedges with sweet chilli sauce and sour cream – to be washed down with lashings of Merv’s new IPA (Intriguing Pig’s Ale).

In no time the new culinary mistresspiece announced its own readiness and Granny ran her Doc Martin’s across the linoleum and into the kitchen.

She returned, beaming satisfaction with her new creation.

“They’s the flattest pancakes I’ve ever seen, Granny.  I told you the mix was too thin !”

“It’s supposed to be like that, Foodge.”

“They’s pretty small for pancakes, Granny.  Is they pikelets ?”

“You’re a fuckin’ pikelet, Foodge. They are wafers! Have you never heard the phrase ‘wafer thin ?” 

“I thought people were saying Wayfarer Thin – like those Ray Bans”.  Foodge was running right along his limit of cool.  Granny rolled her eye.  The other eye had lit upon Father O’Way who strode into the bar for his customary Happy Hour pint of Benedictine.

“Hi Father” said Foodge.

“Hi Foodge, my son”  A smile wafted its way over the faces in the bar – echoing a pub rumour not flattering to either Foodge or the good Father, but not a word was spoken by the crowd.

“And what kind of pastry confession might that be, Granny” said Father O’Way , staring at the curiously familiar discs.

“My new creation – and hopefully the savour of the gutted Parisian icon, Notre Dame, Father”, said Granny.

“I call them ‘Father O’Wafers”.  A howl went up from the patrons and a demand for absolution was met with the rapid distribution of the Father O’Wafers, quaffs of seriously dark Pink Drinks and clerical arm waving by the Good Father.

“Those are amazing”, said Merv, who had a kind of halo-like affair around his bonce – which was in effect a Trumpian fog of hair that had been teased just a tad past breaking point.

“I don’t get the frog bit, Granny”, said Big M.  “How on earth are you going to make enough of these pastry teasers to fund a new cathedral roof ?  I mean it’s taken ten years for Emmjay to realise that the roof of St Generic Brands is in a similar state.  I mean he could fix it with a paragraph of builder talk, but Oh, NO, he’s busy “, said Big M in an unusually sarcastic outburst.

“I have a business plan” said Granny. “I have enlisted the international tyke sisterhood.  We are going global with the invaluable support of ….. the Brides of Crust.”.

“Father O’Wafers” said Father O’Way.  It has a certain ring to it. I can see it now.  Up in lights – Father O’Wafers – for occasions when you haven’t got a prayer”.  

“Not a parish or conglomeration on the planet who wouldn’t give them out at Confusion” insisted Merv, who by now had become deeply under the spirit.

‘This is just the start” said Granny.  “Manne and I’ve begun R&D on our next line – “Commission Royals –  wickedly indulgent, sticky after-Mass treats for sharing with kiddies in the sacristy.  I started with an old Georgian recipe and added a little extra frisson”.

Foodge looked puzzled. He was struggling with the concept of adding a little extra friction – which is rarely a good thing – especially in the cloisters.

“I think you’ll have to work on that a bit more Granny”.  

“Not as much as Emmjay” has to work on the roof of St Generic’s Brand”, said Father O’Way – a master of changing the subject – before Bishop Bishop gets his claws into this little caper.

Plane Cuts

07 Friday Jun 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 9 Comments

Somebody painted the door at the back of Rosie’s Tattoo Emporium and House of Pain …

Libnat Election Tools

11 Saturday May 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 4 Comments

Notice the handy dandy screwed down model – for a screwed up co-alition

Just in time for the Federal Election – the famous Pig-Tel panic button. Perfect election tool for a tool of a co-alition.

Imagine you’re running for a safe Libnat seat – well, let’s face it there are no safe Libnat seats – so imagine you’re a Liberal pre-selected person who’s not a racist homophobic count* hellbent on destroying every person who hasn’t got a massively remunerated job as a bank or insurance company CEO – what are you ? Unique – perhaps – did you fill in the correct form ?

Anyway – you certainly cannot afford to be without one of these handy-dandy policy tools.

Just call us on (insert dial a prayer number here) and send us all your preferences and we’ll make certain you’re well equipped in the panic department.

Remember, at Pig-Tel, we’ve got you little L Libnats covered. It wasn’t our fault we sent you a bag of manure last time. Anyone could have made that mistake.

  • remove the vowel of your choosing.

Mr Whippy

26 Friday Apr 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Mr Whippy

Story by Emmjay

Bit of an out-of-body experience yesterday. I was sitting in the front bar of the pub enjoying a quiet lunchtime glass canoe of Trotter’s Ale with my gourmet bacon and egg roll complete with no rocket or kale and my memory banks overflowed with the sound of “Greensleeves”.

Which goes to show that despite impending dementia, some of our childhood memories built on pavlova, sorry, pavlovian training we will take to our graves. And most likely we will find these pink trucks idling around the afterlife, vending whipped ice cream replete with stubby Flake chocolate bars.

And there I was, basking in the firm belief that they do not make childhoods like that anymore ….. only to discover that they DO !

HR departments are also bastards

23 Tuesday Apr 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 3 Comments


Are bosses bastards?

Reprise of a Mike Jones piece from the old ABC Unleashed Blog

Updated 29 Sep 2010, 12:00pm

Just over a year ago I wrote two pieces for Unleashed – Bosses are Bastards, and The Corporate Death Rattle – or how to tell when your organisation is going guts up. Good timing.

Bosses are bastards told the true story of a mate who had been treated badly by his current employer, found a new job with another organisation only to find out that they were short on ethical behaviour too – even trying to chisel him on the agreed salary after the handshake.

Unleashed readers were evenly divided about whether he should have stayed or gone – really a question of whether the devil you know is a better choice than the higher paying but unknown alternative bastard.

Time for an update.

Terry works in a professional services firm. Think about it like say, an accounting firm. As it turned out, he did take the higher paying job with the new employer (who tried to chisel the salary already agreed). It was plan B – that is, no expectation of a long loving employer-employee relationship, but better than being in the frying pan of a struggling firm for less cash.

They put the acid on him from the outset. The pressure was on for him to develop a new strategic plan for marketing the firm’s services. They also expected him to take responsibility for the revenue performance of the new firm. Some impossibilities started cropping up. It takes a while to get to know the people, strengths and resources in a new firm, their current and target clients. Not generally feasible to turn a multi-million dollar revenue firm around in the first month.

Professional services firms often operate like a collection of fiefdoms – that is, a partner will have his or her own team, and the fact that they’re part of a larger firm is almost incidental. These teams protect their own turf and are often unwilling to collaborate or share information – lest some other team steals their thunder – or worse, stuffs up and cruels a nice steady little earner. The scope for collective sales and marketing and national or regional roles can be a nonsense – and in this case, it was.

Of greater concern for Terry was the growing realisation that the CEO and the Chairman had differing views about what they wanted from him – and also whether they felt he was on the right track or not. Dicey position, two bosses. Good cop. Bad cop. And when they insisted that he stay back at work on the week before Christmas (and miss the firm’s Christmas party) to complete the plan – just one month into the job, the writing was on the wall. They were looking seriously like they were trying to steal his intellectual property through the illusion of offering a permanent job where they could get their plan done and then terminate him after the three months probationary period.

So, two days before Christmas, Terry joined the ranks of the unemployed.

But there was a twist.

When a few of the managers in Terry’s former company found out, they offered him contract work such that he was earning and taking home in three days more than when he was working full time. But the illusion of security was destroyed totally.

And three other interesting problems occurred. First, nobody actually was his boss, and everybody seemed to think they were, contracted or not. Second, the woman who had been promoted into the job Terry left was perhaps understandably not too happy about signing off his timesheets and paying him more than she was earning for work for which he was, in effect, competing successfully with her.

Third, this unhappiness expressed itself in a bizarre formal (and unsubstantiated) complaint against Terry for alleged sexual harassment.

Enter the HR department. The plot thickens. The HR Manager told Terry that this woman had a track record of making sexual harassment claims and that she was undergoing counselling following a relationship breakdown. Terry was also advised to avoid being alone with her in the office – lifts, meeting rooms etc. But they still left her in charge of signing Terry’s timesheets. So now getting paid was added to the list of interesting workday challenges.

A month later, after harassment complaints against her from three of her female colleagues had been raised with HR, the firm counselled the woman. But HR bungled that one too. They told her in detail who had made the complaints. They did not counsel her to leave the complainants alone and she went for their throats. So the firm sacked her on the spot.

Then the firm put into action its third restructure in two years and the HR Department started on that tried and true morale crushing exercise of getting people to re-apply for what looked like their old jobs. But when they did re-apply, for many with insufficient patronage from one of the partners, there simply was no place in the org chart. Or the closest similar place was not surprisingly for 20% less money. Young graduate pups recruited six months previously, were “let go”. These folks will make it their mission to poison the firm’s reputation every time they get a chance. And who would blame them?

And so there soon became a growing cadre of Terry-like contractors serving the clients but earning less and without having any job security one month to the next.

I started to wonder what the HR Department really means in today’s organisation. Terry’s experience was that that they were amiable but ineffective beyond doing payroll administration. Moreover they were not to be trusted because in his experience they sanctioned unethical behaviour by the managers and partners. They were the instruments of enforcing unfair and marginal practices that could be successfully challenged at law. Clearly people often see HR as their friends in the organisation, but the circumstances we see increasingly suggest that this view has its limits. In some cases, the HR Department itself faces the unpleasant choice of implementing management policies that disenfranchise other employees or face being outsourced themselves.

Ethical HR is an important contributor to a firm’s culture, but it is not of itself THE culture.

Ethical HR professionals cannot continue to work for essentially evil organisations. They face a choice – like Terry did – to cop working in an unconscionable place day after day, or to leave. That means that evil firms end up with evil HR departments – ones that are certainly not the friends of people who work there.

So then HR retreats to a role of perpetrating bastardry and only putting the brakes on managerial malfeasance in a spirit of protecting the business from prosecution (or successful litigation against their mongrel acts).

In my experience, union membership in professional services firms is practically, if not actually non-existent. But it does seem that a global financial meltdown is a particularly good time for professionals to remember that when the chips are down, it’s the unions who have industrial and employment law expertise and it’s not going to be the HR department that protects their best interests.

Oh, postscript. This HR Department manager and his staff all failed to find a spot in the new org chart and were outsourced. But I guess they would have at least seen it coming. They do, after all draw and maintain the org chart. From psychology and industrial law to graphic arts; such a short trip.

Bosses are Bastards – a Reprise

18 Thursday Apr 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 5 Comments

By Emmjay

Updated 29 Sep 2010, 12:06pm

meeting

Dear Patrons de la salle de Porc, I rediscovered something I wrote NINE YEARS AGO for the ABC’s “Unleashed”. Just thinking apropos the current “we need a wage rise” debate, how prescient this piece was.

“… All bosses are bastards. That’s why.”

It was my father’s response to a teenage inquiry about how come, after 30 years he had not risen a single rung on the ladder from skilled tradesman to something – anything – north of 15 Poverty Avenue.

He routinely saw what a promotion meant; two dollars an hour more than he was getting as a toolmaker and a lot of grief trying to encourage the blokes who yesterday were his mates, to do the unreasonable bidding of the bosses. He rejected the offer to sell out his position at the top of his class and join the bottom of another for which he held deep suspicion, mistrust and not a well-disguised contempt.

At the time I interpreted his answer as being his justification for a complete lack of ambition, but twenty-five years after he passed away, I recently received the ultimate confirmation of this piece of paternal wisdom.

Recently a mate of mine provided – in a fashion – the 21st century proof that all bosses are bastards. The event has a name. It’s called the annual performance review.

He knew it was coming. I helped him prepare for it over a couple of quiet ones at the pub.

We started by building a solid defence against all the likely lines of attack – otherwise known as the dodgy management reasons why his performance was perceived as being insufficiently stellar to support a decent pay rise, regardless of how well the firm was doing.

My mate, had however, in his first six months shaped a couple of pitches that won the firm several million dollars of business, and we decided that it was a poor strategy to go into the review with a negative, defensive frame of mind. He was clearly a winner, and would he not be better off to approach the performance review from a more positive point of view ?

Big mistake.

His boss, and his boss’ boss did not regard his start as being all that good. They were surprisingly uninterested in how he would turn a three million dollar win into several six or ten million dollar wins. They said that he needed to focus on his Key Performance Indicators. What are they? he asked. They weren’t specific – apparently the corporate strategy that these so-called KPIs point towards is a secret.

With nothing more specific than a criticism of “not enough runs on the board”, my mate limped off.

I find it amazing that these bastard bosses failed to understand even the basics of human nature. They had a willing, hard worker with a positive attitude and they turned him into a hostile mutineer in half an hour. If they had had problems with his work in the first year, why was there no proper supervision, correction of errant behaviours or coaching in a more productive approach?

Did they make these people bosses because they are great leaders and motivators? Or bosses because they were poor performers on the production floor but great at sucking up to their foreman and lacking the decency to feel some concern about the implicit shift in power relationships with their mates.

To be fair to his bosses, they could have done a lot worse than rob my mate of any corporate loyalty. They could have missed the annual performance review and suggested that it wasn’t sufficiently important to trouble them. They could have done it late, in a hurry, with no preparation so that they could project the required level of contempt.

They could have made a big deal about how great the performance was – and then offered an offensively low reward to show that they were just kidding with their praise.

Fortunately, this guy was offered a position with one of the competitor firms. He had the interview. They loved him. They agreed on a rate. It was 30% higher than his current job. He accepted and they pressed the flesh on the deal. But for some reason, he held off quitting until the paperwork arrived. There was a delay.

Two weeks later the prospective new boss returned his inquiry about how things were going – and told my mate that the new firm wasn’t prepared to pay as much as had been agreed. Then he was offered ten thousand dollars less than what they had shaken hands on.

So what should he do? Accept the offer from people who have shown that they are bastards even before day one on the new job and wait until they confirm it at the “annual performance review”, or should he work for the current pack of bastards at the lower rate ?

Help me out. I want to avoid giving him a second piece of dodgy counsel. Either way, I think he should listen to the advice of my late father. What do you think ?

It’s your shout, by the way.

Image

Election Debate – Minimum Standard

19 Tuesday Mar 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff | Filed under Emmjay

≈ Leave a comment

The Shape of Stories

11 Monday Mar 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ Leave a comment

The late great master story teller tells it all !

Wanted – Driverless Car

07 Thursday Mar 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Driverless car, Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Phillip, Queen Elizabeth

Pensioner couple retired to Scotland seeks a late model driverless car. Price no object. Must be able to tolerate constant abuse and racist slurs.

Interested subjects call Balmoral 1 and ask for Her Majesty.

For Sale – Mitre $0.20c o.n.o.

01 Friday Mar 2019

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 19 Comments


….. or swap for one in prison green

Only worn on Sundays. Slightly marked in the nether region. One owner – would suit a chap with a fuller figure.

Call me via dial-a-prayer and if god answers ask for George.

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