an idiot in london


Wednesday, 28th June.

When it comes to telling bad jokes, I'm right up there.

This week I've been helping out with the induction course for graduates. It's a little "Welcome To Logica" thing for all the graduates who are starting employment with Logica, poor things. (If I had my way the induction would involve some car orienteering, a scavenger hunt where they have to hijack at least one bus and some sort of ritual humiliation in Leicester Square.)

After work today we all went out for dinner at an Italian restaurant. Logica was paying, so I was going to eat eat eat. As it turned out I couldn't finish off the huge pizza I ordered. We then ambled down the road to a pub. Someone bought a round of drinks, and we sat outside and yakked away. I was sitting next to a young bloke from Bolton (with a silent 't') and someone prompted one of the tutors to tell a joke. He told one of the worst ones going round, "Horse walks into a bar, and the barman says: Why the long face?" The lad from Bolton cracked up.

The challenge had been laid down. It was all too easy really.

Grasshopper walks into a bar. The barman says, "Hey, we've got a drink named after you!" Grasshopper says, "What, Kevin?"

I know it's bad. That's the point. But Bolton (with a silent 't') boy nearly wet himself. Crikey.