No no no. Don’t go leaping to the comments box with beautifully crafted messages of good tidings and best wishes. It is not my birthday. It was someone at work, someone rather senior.

Like every office throughout the land, he went through the “I’ve put some shit cakes in the kitchen for everyone” charade, and everyone signed his card pretending to like him as it was passed around between the employees. I thought long and hard about what to write, and then put the following.

Congrats, hope you end
up partying like you’re
nearer to 21 than 40! Try not
to get into too much trouble!

I took special care to emphasise the first letter of each line, and I will admit if felt extremely good to call him a cunt, even if it was hidden away in unbreakable code in his birthday card. It is these little victories which will ensure I win the war.

He then went out for lunch with the female office manager, and quite cute she is too. Anyway, I needed to see him after lunch so I checked his diary, and the smug bastard had only written in “BJ” over two hours for lunch.

Talk about rubbing your fucking face in it.