[N.B.: Yr Most Humble Scribe doth beg Forgiveness for the but Slow & Lacking service of late upon This Blog, & by way of Small Recompense, offers the following Drasty Dogerel.]
In Praise of Bureaucrats
"I don't deal with your type, I fear,
It's not my job, you see;
But it's been the job of Mandy here
Since 1993."
It's not my job,
It's not for you
To ask such things of me;
Why, silly clot,
You talk such rot,
It's YOUR fault,
don't you see?
"Now have you got a P8-K?
You'll want to use the phone."
Admitting no defeat, I say
That it got left at home.
It's not my job,
It's not for you
To ask such things of me;
Why, silly clot,
You talk such rot,
It's YOUR fault,
don't you see?
"The smear test's just an option,
But also compulsory;
We need to know quite where you've been
And stuck yourself, you see?"
It's not my job,
It's not for you
To ask such things of me;
Why, silly clot,
You talk such rot,
It's YOUR fault,
don't you see?
"I can't deal with you just right now,
But if you'll bear with me,
Young Doreen here (the silly cow)
Will get you some nice tea.
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