Santa's Sack of Corporate Crap
Friends and relatives in the Southern Hemisphere were so delighted on Christmas Day to receive gleaming gifts of fountain pens, golf sets, model cars, brass wall clocks and leather folders that they failed to notice each item was delicately engraved with "Samsung" and "Playstation" rather than "To Grandfather" or "Dear Mother."
Ironic that the only person who requested a mosque alarm clock was an Arab Australian.
Back in Dubai, after a fourteen-hour torture session in a flying Emirates creche of bawling brats, with a broken chair (the Airbus has not even been in use for a month yet, for god's sake) and typically disinterested flight staff, a mountain of Christmas cards but thankfully far less corporate crap awaits.
Proof positive that PR people are in fact not human but prettily-dressed robots comes in the form of two mistakenly sent duplicate cards, both signed by the same half dozen PR bunnies. So identical are they that it takes several minutes of inspection and a strong magnifying glass to determine that the bunnies have not actually photocopied their signatures.
Ironic that the only person who requested a mosque alarm clock was an Arab Australian.
Back in Dubai, after a fourteen-hour torture session in a flying Emirates creche of bawling brats, with a broken chair (the Airbus has not even been in use for a month yet, for god's sake) and typically disinterested flight staff, a mountain of Christmas cards but thankfully far less corporate crap awaits.
Proof positive that PR people are in fact not human but prettily-dressed robots comes in the form of two mistakenly sent duplicate cards, both signed by the same half dozen PR bunnies. So identical are they that it takes several minutes of inspection and a strong magnifying glass to determine that the bunnies have not actually photocopied their signatures.
Labels: aviation
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