Every day on my way to work I have cause to pass a few of the main delivery offices of my area…. And they are deserted, as you might understand there being a strike on.
But wait…
I remember when strikes were proper strikes. You know… load of blokes in woolly hats sat round an oil drum screaming “Scab” at anyone who looked like they might go into the car park… but today? Nothing.
Much as I hate unions, and strikes when you’ve clearly got a good deal, I could have a grudging respect for the blokes who manned the picket lines and froze their little socialist tits off while doing so.. but the postmen? Where the fuck are they?
From where I’m standing they’re clearly sat at home watching Jeremy Kyle.
Get back to work or get out in the cold and shout at people…. One or the other!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
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