Oh dear. It would seem I have been rumbled for my replacement of the Daily Mirror with the Daily Sport on our newspaper order. What was meant to be a one day joke was scuppered by the incompetence of Martin Lavell, our newspaper delivery company who, despite a call and 2 emails, have proceeded to deliver it for the past week or so.
Finally, when opening the morning's press bundle today, Trophy_Wife smelt a rat: "I fail to believe you didn't specifically order this."
It would never come to it, but if it did I'd happily take the disciplinary rap for buying softcore pornography with company money all in the name of horseplay - see disciplinary policy section 9 here. I'd even write the finance director a cheque for the £2.50 I must've cost the company. What I will not do, is tolerate a company fucking up a gag that would only work on a one-day-only basis. Martin Lavell is losing our contract.
Thank heavens our delightful new Italo-American intern wasn't here to witness this porn joke gone wrong car crash. She doesn't start until Monday, at which point I have a whole 10 weeks to work with/on her.
