Curses!

My Dear Fellow,

Every IT department has a bit of change software. You know the sort of thing, it describes the change you want to make, when, how long the change window is open. That sort of thing.

Typically, it is the most hated bit of software on site. And getting a change approved is always the most horrible part, with clueless senior managers being the only people authorised to approve while at the same time the people least qualified.

My current PM has been struggling with this for about 3 days now. Every time you mention the word "change" to her, the colour drains from her face. And of course, her language becomes more colourful. 

"Oh I AM sorry," she says. This, because she has uttered an epithet of some description and she worries I am offended. I think this is because I am one of the few people to actually use the word "effing" out loud. It started as a joke, but now I cannot stop. I mean the odd "f***" still comes out, but for the most part, I eff instead. 

To make her feel better I told her about my sweary wife. Er Indoors could peel paint with her language. It's not just the individual words she knows, it is the way she puts them together. "M****f***ing d***head f***ing c***". For example.

And I realised her unique talent early on in our relationship when we were renting Pickett's flat. We got a good rate - I think is was £175 a month or something ridiculous like that - partly because we took care of Dusty & Ripley (the "rental cats" who came with the flat) and also because we agreed to show buyers around, as her flat was on the market.

The flat was furnished with all Pickett's stuff. And her fridge was covered in magnetic letters. This proved an irresistible temptation to Er Indoors who would rearrange the letters into something either filthy or anatomically impossible every night.

I thought this was charming, of course. You know I've always liked the Bad Girls. But it didn't work out so well when some buyers came around to check out the kitchen and found "Ratsh*t Pigf***er" written on our fridge door.

"Oh er ha ha ha," I said, draping myself over the front of the fridge. "Have you seen the lovely la Creuset kettle? No it doesn't come with the flat I was just saying ha ha ha..."

My PM thought that was a great story, but her swearing hasn't moved on much past the effing and jeffing stage. Also, she's promised me she's going to get me access to the change software thingy so I can take over her thankless task.

I hope she's prepared. I know words that can stun a seagull 50 yards away. Thank you, Er Indoors.

El P.