I’m phoning it in.
I’ve been phoning it in for a while.
I’ve tried to deny it but I think it’s time for a bit of honesty.
I’ve always said that the only thing I would tolerate myself phoning in is the way I do my job. (24.992% of the effort apparently gets you 99.968% of the results and I’m fucked if any employer has yet paid or respected me enough for me to sweat out any more than that.)
While the Ministry has at times been hard work – occasionally for the Minister as well as, more regularly, for you – I don’t want to end up hating it as I do my job.
Excepting December's music and movie list posts, my last proper post was on 21 November. Whatever magic there was has now departed.
So this is the end, beautiful friend. This is the end, my only friend. The end.
Probably.
I’m hedging my bets slightly because there’s a vague possibility that PBD will infuriate me so much during the impending election campaign that I might just have to unload a few massive, steaming turds on his plastic-y, airbrushed head.
But if nothing has stirred by the time that toxic cunt moves in to Downing Street, the Ministry will be going to digital heaven.
The Minister will re-appear, elsewhere and in a different guise, in due course: if you want to know where, let me know and I’ll let you know.
Love, luck, light and life.
