Friday Fuckwit (s)

That time again folks and my, doesn't the week roll by. This one's been a doozy. Fast paced, very busy and me realising that as an administrator, I make a fabulous blogger! Filling in forms is NOT my forte. Even a friend of mine said this morning, "I don't know what you're doing in administration, I can't imagine you doing that kind of work!" He was right. I'm not designed for filling in forms and playing stamps.

Friday Fuckwit Extraordinaire
Me - again! . . .for transferring $36,000 out of the wrong account for one of our most valued (and I must admit rather sweet) clients. Fortunately, due to bribes, threats and 3kgs of Fererro Rocher chocolate, I was able to persuade an international fund manager Colonial First State to allow someone to 'buy in' to one of their now 'closed' funds and Mr Client is a happy man. Well he's an Engineer so he's a 'contented' man. I don't think they have a 'happy' scale.

Friday Fuckwit 2
Mr Client who still wants to buy into this dog despite losing $15,000 since his initial investment, getting one distribution and dollar cost averaging (depositing $100 month for the past decade) into the fund. Give it to me you bastard or shred it or wipe your bum with it . . .throw it in the air and see what sticks - far more useful than sinking more into this embarrassment of a fund. Now I'm far from advocating people cut and run in this current economic climate but this is a 10 year wake up call! Bail, bail, bail . . .

Friday Fuckwit 3
Me AGAIN! Yep, last night, popped into the local supermarket, picked up two bottles of Eaglehawk Chardy and a packet of nurrells and then promptly backed into the car attempting to park next to me. Seriously, I didn't see him. Fortunately I drive like a Nana so the bump was more of a 'tip' and left little more than some bumper rubber on corresponding corner. He was very sweet and we swapped cards and phone numbers. "It'll probably polish off!" he declared and thank goodness I haven't heard from him since. Stupid idiot woman that I am - I put it down to Clare distraction - it's all her fault for occupying 99% of my brain capacity at the moment.

Friday Fuckiwt 4
I don't know if you're aware but the "safest airline on the planet" has had a few niggles lately. Gas cylinders blowing up, bits of wings falling off, plummeting to earth before righting among a litany of potentially dangerous incidents. It's CEO, who has presided over the company for the past 8 years retired today in this dire economic climate when consumer confidence is at a low ebb on . . oooh . . $12.2 million. That should keep his fluffy pussy in Dine for a lifetime don't you think? He's now handing the reins over to former Jet Star (sister budget carrier) Irishman and to my mind wannabe Richard Branson, Alan Joyce.

Qantas defended its executive salaries as a means to retain the best managers. Qantas staff on the other hand have received little more than CPI rises over those 8 years and maintenance has been sent offshore (possible reason for the bits falling off?) and definitely to blame for the surly nature of cabin crew. Apparently, from this day hence, the practice of giving excessive amounts to executives willy nilly will cease. Oooh . .look up, what's that? Damn piggy poo!

Part of his settlement however included shares calculated at about $5 each that are now worth about $2.30. Never mind mate, hang tight, they'll rise again.

So there you have it folks. Wet and warm, nice if you're with a woman but not so nice if you're being dripped on by the condensation on your Chardy glass every time you take a sip. Why do girls always get the wet spot!

I just hope the sun pokes it's face out on Tuesday morning when my girly swat wakes up, at home, in her own little bed and glances outside her window. She's flying in at 8pm on Monday night! Wahay! Erm Clare, if you're out there . . would you like to give your mother, I mean taxi, your flight number? Oh God, she's flying Qantas!