I remember a boss I once had whose idea of a team meeting was to lecture us for a solid two hours with no opportunities for replies or comments. As I was leaving one of these sessions one of the team spoke to me.
“You know what his problem is, Robin? He has a mind like a woman’s handbag.”
“A handbag?” I asked, like Lady Bracknell.
“Yes, a handbag. It’s always with him. It’s full of a load of old crud: lots of dust and scraps of paper, a few bits of colourful fluff. It contains a few pieces really valuable jewellery and some useful items like keys. But 95 percent of it is cosmetics.”
That cheered me up. For a 1.729 seconds at least.
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