Robin Parker, 52, of Lewisham, was today awarded a fucking medal or something for turning up to work on time for the tenth day running.
His supervisor, Helen Thomas, said "he's had a bit of a problem lately sticking to his contracted hours, but there's been an improvement in the last couple of weeks, and he's currently meeting his obligations. I made a point of thanking him, because I think it helps, and he seemed very proud, so I asked if he wanted [to be nominated for the prestigious award]. I mean, really."
The fucking medal or something, given annually by the Centre For Doing Your Fucking Job Shithead (CfDYFJS), honours those members of society who selflessly and with great fanfare get on with their lives like grown ups. Jason Cox, head of the CfDYFJS, said at the ceremony that Parker was a truly deserving winner, remarking that it was "not as if everyone else turns up for work on time without making such a big deal of it the whole entire time."
Cox added that it was a great honour to hear Parker's account of the events, saying it was "as if he'd cured fucking cancer or something to hear him go on about it." Fortunately, Parker is refreshingly willing to talk about his accomplishment.
Parker's award is currently hanging on his living room wall, above the fucking Oscar he won in 1992 for his performance in I Don't Think I Should Come In For A Bit, There's Some Kind Of Bug Or Whatever Going Around And I Wouldn't Want To Spread It About.
