Own a coun­cil clip­board? Then you sir are a to­tal c***

Midweek Sport - - NEWS - @justin­dunn

HAVE you ever had the mis­for­tune to use any of the zil­lion pub­lic ser­vices in this coun­try?

I sin­cerely hope not for all your sakes. They’re staffed by cretins.

Wonky-eyed, badly-dressed mo­rons who played Dun­geons and Dragons as kids and got picked on by fat lads who them­selves were picked on by fat girls who in turn would grow up to be slags.

Their fave toy was an aba­cus and if they had a pet it was prob­a­bly some­thing re­ally shit, like a pair of stick in­sects called Sticky and Stick­ette.

They never snogged any­one at youth club, they never got in­vited to par­ties, they had crap train­ers, were rub­bish at sport, and to­day they’re most likely still for­lorn users of Friends Re­united – even though they have few friends.

Shunned by so­ci­ety, cast aside by con­tem­po­raries, and fac­ing a fu­ture bleaker even than Michael Bar­ry­more’s, they do what peo­ple like that can ONLY do: They go to work for a coun­cil.

There they are handed their first ever badge and clip­board and im­me­di­ately come in their pants, such is the fris­son of joy ex­pe­ri­enced by the lowly when no­ticed for the first time in their lives. Then, as surely as night fol­lows day, they seek re­venge on the bet­ter look­ing, more suc­cess­ful and pop­u­lar. They be­come a Clip­board C***. A per­fect ex­am­ple of this took place in Rom­ford, Es­sex, when dog-owner Tracey Hayes took her golden re­triever and Ger­man shep­herd to a park.

While she was out­doors and the weather was nice, she gave the dogs a good brush while wait­ing for her son to fin­ish play­ing football.

And that’s when two Clip­board C***s pounced on her. One blocked her car door so she couldn’t open it while the other one took pic­tures of the dog hair ly­ing on the grass.

They is­sued her with a £50 fine for “lit­ter­ing” and – al­though I can only spec­u­late here – then went to play furious spurt­ing tummy sticks to­gether to cel­e­brate their dar­ing col­lar.

They pre­sume that be­cause some equally de­luded id­iot at the town hall gave them a badge it makes them im­por­tant.

It doesn’t. You were born a c***, grew up like a c***, and now you’re em­ployed as a c***.

Phew – I feel so much bet­ter.

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