Eating on the job

The ‘hero’ pilot of the Boeing 777 that crashed at Heathrow airport celebrated the safe landing with a curry, it emerged today.

Well that would explain why he crashed then, he probably caught his sleeve on one of those levers when he was reaching for the naan bread.

See, me, I’m not allowed to eat at work in case I spill something into my keyboard, annoy my colleagues and clients or, worse still, actually enjoy myself.
An occasional curry whilst I’m stacking the shelves or a chicken leg when I’m unblocking the toilets would be most welcome and add variety to an otherwise tedious day.

I bet that bloke who runs the country doesn’t get by on a cup of tea and a digestive.  You know the one, stocky, wears a suit, always on the tele, I think he’s Welsh or Scottish.  Gordon something.  Always shouting.
Ramsay – that’s it!
I bet they don’t stop Gordon bloody Ramsay eating on the job.

What would stop me wanting to eat at work would be if I had a job at McBurger or KFC (Killing Feathered Creatures).


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