Five brutally honest things you'd love to say at work

DO you spend your working day wishing you could speak your mind? Here are five things you dream of saying, loud and proud, in the interests of truth.

‘Piss off, you can’t have a fiver’ 

For Linda’s birthday gift, for Simon’s leaving do, for Hugh’s daughter’s sponsored readathon… not to mention all the marathons, bike rides and Ironmans. It’s bad enough being trapped in an office with these twats, let alone having to fund their stilted office gatherings and midlife crises.

‘I’m just going to half-ass this one’

You can’t be expected to perform at 100 per cent capacity all the time – 63 per cent is beyond the call of duty. Just once you’d like to tell your boss you can’t be arsed to make an effort with some trivial task. Your idiot colleagues and clients certainly won’t notice. However, this would shatter his self-important little world and you’d feel guilty about him having a nervous breakdown. 

‘I have no f**king idea what I’m doing’

You naively thought that by the time you were an adult with a proper job you’d have at least some idea how to do that job. And yet here you are winging it, day in, day out. You can’t even ask for help because everyone else is making it up as they go along too, the f**king frauds.

‘F**k off, Gary’ 

No one else wants to be friends with Gary, your involuntary workplace pal. He’s decided you’re his friend and homes in on you in the canteen to have boring conversations about work or women in the office he doesn’t stand a chance with. You want to tell him to go away but what if he topped himself, leaving a note saying his only friend had abandoned him? You’re being paranoid now and he’d just latch onto someone else, but it’s not worth the risk.

‘There is no point to our existence’

There’s nothing like an average day at work to really drive home the futility of existence. You’d like to share this revelation with everyone and give them a chance of finding freedom. But they’d just look at you blankly and go back to bitching inanely about how Clare’s taken too many days off with a slipped disc, which is probably made up anyway.

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Podcasts and other wildly popular things everyone claims to hate

SOME things are far too popular considering everyone claims to despise them. Unless they’re all lying about loathing these hate magnets.


Few things make eyes roll harder than when a conversation veers towards podcasts. Who cares if you’ve just listened to a 13-part series where two washed-up comedians talk about their favourite episodes of Frasier? Lots of people clearly give a shit though because it’s shooting up the Apple podcast chart.


The BBC is either a corrupt government mouthpiece or a woke asylum obsessed with box-ticking, depending on your worldview. It’s very existence is an affront to life itself, but you’ll still plonk yourself down every evening for the news at 10 just like the rest of us. And it’s got the huge selling point of being marginally less shit than some of the crap on Netflix and Disney Plus.

Social media

Everyone agrees that endlessly scrolling through the news and bullshit opinions from random morons can’t be good for your health. None of us has got the balls to delete social media from our phones though, meaning we’ll stay glued to these dopamine dispensers for the rest of our lives. It’s a depressing existence, but you might see a good meme once in a while. You know, like Captain Picard facepalming. Something very current and witty.

Boris Johnson

Call Boris Johnson a twat in a public space and you can guarantee everyone will nod their head in agreement and say how useless he is. Oddly though, when the election rolls around this contempt manifests itself as a landslide majority. It’s as if we secretly like bumbling Etonian pricks who [insert any of about 200 serious character flaws that make him unsuitable to be PM]. 


Urgh, men. If they’re not lording it over everyone with their privilege they’re being boozy bores who like Formula 1. Even men hate men, which is pretty good going. The male population isn’t exactly dying out though, so someone clearly likes them enough to shag them. And that ‘someone’ is women, the bloody hypocrites. They’re still better than men though.