We’ve all done it. Sometimes we’ve even been genuinely ill.
Most of the time though, I bet we’ve all been swinging the lead. Pulling a fast one. Pulling a flanker. Gilding the lily. We’ve had a slight cough. A teeny-tiny headache. A bit of a sniffle. Nothing to put us on our backs. And we know this because although we don’t feel up to work we’re quite happy to stay at home, play on the Wii and surf for dodgy German web sites on the internet.
Physically we’re capable of work but we just can’t be arsed.
So we pull a sickie.
The subtle protest of the working man who is wise enough to know that his masters deserve to be given the finger occasionally. Because they pull sickies worse than anybody.
And it occurred to me today that, in this neon-lit, plastic-wrapped world of Bluetooth technology, there really ought to be an App for that.
A Ferris Bueller’s Day Off kind of app.
An app where you can ring your boss / wife / lawyer / sergeant / hairdresser / vet for the insane and explain to them that you will not be in attendance today due to [insert ailment of your choice here] and then supply them with the appropriate sound effect. Just to drive the point home and convince them of your bona fide need for a day at home on the sick.
Now if there isn’t an app like that then I am up for making one.
And this is where you guys come in. I need someone to supply the sound effects. I have provided a list of what I require below but do feel free to add your own suggestions. I always find that the more bizarre and outlandish my claims the more my boss is predisposed to swallow them as gospel. And do feel free to use props if it helps and I’d prefer the files to be mp3 if at all possible. Now, I’m running this on a first come first served basis so I suggest you get in quick before all the good ones go...
1) Whooping cough / consumption
2) Vomiting (apparently gagging on vegetable soup is a dead-ringer)
3) Diarrhea / the galloping squits (please remember to include groaning and then vast splashing noises as if someone has performed a water bomb in the local swimming pool)
4) Prolapsed sphincter (apparently ripping a cotton shirt and then screaming will plant the appropriate image into a anybody’s mind)
5) Having a baby (wouldn’t try this excuse if you are male)
6) Delivering a baby (hey, but this would work)
7) Going on a gun rampage because well, the police, they’ve got it coming, ain’t they?
8) Stigmata (maybe say “ow!” and drop the phone a lot)
9) Hysterical womb (only works if your boss is a bit Victorian)
10) Unplanned for amputation of foot with garden spade
11) Advanced stages of E.coli poisoning (more believable if you were seen eating in the staff canteen the day before)
12) Temporary insanity (you will lose points if you don’t utter the words: wibble wibble)
13) Sudden recruitment to Islamic fundamentalist group
14) Elephantiasis of the tongue
15) Sexual exhaustion (kudos if your boss buys this)
16) Impalement on the kitchen implement of your choice
20) Cuthbert Dibble Grubb (sorry, lost my train of thought there)
Yeah. I ran out of ideas towards the end but you get the picture.
Just make them sound good folks because we’re all entitled to approximately 12 days off sick per year. Well, I am anyway. Let’s make sure we all get them!
I'll volunteer for keyboard-induced RSI if you like. That'd be a good one because a quick spasm of the index-finger could terminate the call at precisely the moment when the boss gets probing. Alternatively, I can do back ache. I do that one really well. Especially after, well...
May I offer up the services of my husband, app-programmer extraordinnaire (no kidding on this one!). I could also be persuaded to simulate the groands of impaling myself on a kitchen utensil if you wish. God... that sounded so wrong.
The Dotterel: you're hired. Especially for the back ache. Do I need to engage you on a particular night?
Being Me: that's a different kind of app altogether... I shall be in touch about that one very soon indeed. ;-)
You left out circumcision. I can get you the double-pronged knife use by the Mandinka. The sound effects will take care of themselves.
There's an app called fake-an-excuse. Sounds right up your tree. I've been off 4 days this week with back pain. I am in agony theres no way I could work but I feel like a fraud and feel guilty. If I was faking it there would be no guilt at all. How does that work? Sigh
Gorilla Bananas: I fear you have missed the point. The whole idea is to fake a reason to be off work. If I have to offer my servered foreskin to my boss to take a sickie I'll just get myself a different job.
Kelloggsville: do you and The Dotterel know each other by any chance?
Hysterical womb? You must be joking.
14) and 15),are they interchangeable?
I found that my boss was p..r..e..t..ty suspicious if I phoned in sick on a Friday.
He'd usually catch me out with the old "..and how was your weekend..?" routine. I'd have gone on to describe my Saturday morning abseiling down the Matterhorn adventure, before brain engaged. His response was invariably: "How many days of annual leave do you have still?
Marginalia: Hysterical womb was a genuinely recognized condition during Victorian times. Personally I didn't think Frankie Boyle had been around that long. Better than historical womb I suppose. My Nan had one of those.
As for the weekend gaffe: easy. I just make out that I am ill ALL the time with stress whenever my boss asks. It amuses him greatly.
I think I'm a shoe-in for Number 16. In fact, as you will know from my current post, that very situation is a distinct possibility this weekend.
Does wanker's cramp fall under the sexual exhaustion category??
Have a good weekend Steve.
Trish: Being Me beat you to it. You may have to double up. Let me know and I'll bring my video camera.
Löst Jimmy: wanker's cramp? I get enough of that at work...!
My kids often do this, but somehow I never can. The career of housewife does though allow you to UGG boots and horrible old brown cardy all day which is almost as good...
About Last Weekend: I have some smelly slippers and a holey tanktop - does that equate to the same thing?
there's a sickie in there somewhere ;)
Suzanne: yes. It's Huey, isn't it?
Just say you have really bad period pains and a particularly heavy flow - no male boss ever knows how react to that one !!
Selina: it would certainly explain why I get bad tempered 2 days a month and take up rollerskating for the rest.
I had a t-shirt that said "I used up all my sick days, so I called in dead" :)
Vicky: I guess that would be the ultimate sick day. But what sound effect could I use for that?
I'm sticking with 'I can't be arsed...'
Nota Bene: if you can get that signed by your doctor it would be more valuable than gold...
Best I ever heard was a painter who said he had broken his leg on the Irish Ferry, but would be back at work wednesday.
You forgot over consumption of chocolate.
Keith: over consumption of chocolate... impossible.
Well I’m lying here stark naked, hand cuffed to the bed, covered in sticky chocolate, clasping a digital voice recorder with one hand – to try and give you some authentic MP3 sound effects by the way ‘mate’ - and my i-phone with the other, as I do every year on the morning of my birthday. Unfortunately my wife has just texted me to say she’s very very sorry but she’s volunteered to work a third back to back shift at the abattoir as there’s no one else in again, and she’ll try and find a way of making it up to me next year if she’s not too busy. Okay, these things happen, but the trouble is…I’ve already downed one too many Viagra’s, my unfed Alsatian’s looking a bit too keenly at my wavering appendage here and…I left the key under the mat outside for the buyers of our house to let themselves in by first thing this morning to have a look around after I’d gone to work. Problem is, my phones nearly out of juice, I don’t have their phone number, they’re due in ten minutes, the dogs just scoffed down the last five Viagra’s and …well, he’s looking at me a bit weird like in all truth.
Who do you suggest I call Steve? – The Samaritans, the Fire Brigade, the RSPCA…or a brand new estate agent?
PS – can you phone my boss for me and tell him ‘my beds broke and I’m trapped underneath it’ ?
Phil: you're a genius. "Hi boss, sorry, I can't come into work today because the dog ate my penis." That would work big time.
I'm laughing so hard at Selina and Phils' comments that I have completely forgotten what I was going to say.
I'd happily actually get Sexual exhaustion and then I wouldn't have to fake the sound so I'd get a day off without guilt, so really its win win all round. At least I think that's what I was going to say :-)
Aren't we all entitled to six months off with depression?
I've worked for it, I've earned it and I'm darn well going to treat myself! ;- )
Eeeeeeuwue! What a yucky thought. A dog with two dicks. Cept one of them’s MINE! Still…I suppose you could stretch this one out for another 24 hours by adding “…and my doctors locked the dog in the bathroom till he performs his next pooh pooh, so I can’t possibly leave till he’s recovered my chocolate willy and fused it all back on.
PS – Wanna by my house?
Gypsy Dancer: or get the day off in order to get sexually exhausted. Those are my favourite sickies.
Laura: on that scale I reckon I'm owed about 6 years.
Phil: unless it's so big the dog can't pass it and the vet has to operate to remove it and then the surgeons get to sew it back on... that should spin things out for a week or two. That would cover a nice holiday abroad.
How much you selling for?
Well the dog definitely can’t pass it. No surprise there then. Trouble is, all those Viagra’s he scoffed have kicked in big time and every time the vet tries to do his stuff, well doggo tries to do his stuff to the vet at the same time. If you get my meaning. It’s all a bit confused here right now, specially as there’s about fifty odd experts and rescue type people here right now and all the flash bulbs are blinding me. Still…they all seem to be in good humour judging by the hoots of laughter and the neighbours are all here serving cups of tea. If only the fireman would hurry up and cut me free of these handcuffs so I can put some clothes on again.
As for the house price – how much have you got? Enough to cover the vets and the surgeons’ bills? I’ll throw in the dog for free. But only when I’ve got my willy back mind.
Phil: I can offer £57.63p and a packet of Walkers Cheese & Onion crisps. As for the dog... I can't accept him; I know where he's been.
Ha ha ha Steve!! Just love your sense of humour bloke, you’re absolutely priceless, no two ways about it, in fact your so full of merde it’s coming out of your ears…£57.63 !!(?) ha ha ha ha ha!! Fifty Seven Pounds & Sixty Three English Pence?…god you know how to make me laugh Steve…HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!
Believe it or not, I once won a contest for making the most realistic vomiting sounds of all the contestants... but now, after reading about these dogs eating certain anatomical appendages, I'm not sure I'm even going to have to imitate it... here comes rrrrralllllllppppphhhhhhh... Hmmm, maybe that dog could come by and scarf up the chunky bits ?
Phil: would it be OK if I paid you in monthly instalments? I have my eye on a toaster in Argos.
Owen: you're hired. I sense a career in radio awaits you. Either that or Animal Hospital.
Installments? Hmmm....technical stuff eh? ... Okey Dokey then. But I want those Walkers crisps as down-payment pronto pronto. The rest you can pay me over five years if you're gonna start hard bargaining.
How much you want for your old toaster then??
Phil: will you take the old toaster as a deposit? I'll even throw in a couple of baps for you to play with... butter them up how you like.
You’ve scoffed the crisps already haven’t you. I can tell. That’s such a nasty thing to do Stephen. Really cruel. How do I know if I can trust you?
This old toaster of yours then…is it coal fired or steam driven?
No tricky stuff now Stevie..I’m no fool you know..
Phil: it's powered by a small pile of burning sticks and a bellows pump. Great exercise for the heart. As for the crisps. Sorry. I've got some prawn cocktail at the back of the cupboard if you prefer?
A stick & bellows toaster eh? Cool. They don’t make toasters like that anymore. Forty two minutes & 23 seconds is still the all time world record for two slices of toast on one of those you know. Amazing. Yeah Ok then. I’ll have it. But I want all your sticks as well. Don’t stitch me up now.
These prawn cocktail crisps of yours…is that like, fishy things mixed with brandy?
Phil: sticks on their way to your right now... via pigeon post.
As for "fishy things mixed with brandy". Well, now, I haven't had one of those parties for quite a while...
Yo Steve……any idea whose blog this is?
Phil: it's ours, bro.
It IS!?! Excellent! Don’t know where you are in here, but I’m down in the basement with my head in the fridge…an you’ve just gotta see all the beer and trifle stacked up inside it!
Phil: I'm outside in the garden. I nipped out to feed the birds and... well... the door closed on me. I think it's locked from the inside. You don't think you could, you know, let me back in again? I think I left some chip fat heating on the cooker.
Ha ha ha..BEEELLLCHHH ! Ooooh, pardon me. Must be all this fizzy beer an trifle I’m scoffing. You locked yourself out in the garden then? Ha hhha! Ok, I’ll trapes upstairs an turn off the chip fryer in a minute then. Soon as I finish my beer….BBBEEEEELLCHHHH!! Jeeeeze, that was a biggy. Made me go all cross eyed.
What did you just say to me?
Never mind. It’ll come back to me in a minute…
Phil: er... I'm in the garden. Where it's cool. You're in the house where it's getting very hot. I can wait, buddy. I can wait.
I once worked with someone who fancied a week off work. He planned it some time in advance, even booked a holiday! He then spent two or three weeks limping and clutching his back. Yes, you've guessed it, all that limping actually gave him a bad back for real!
Martin: it's true. I've had experiences where just faking a cough has given me one for real or even just pretending to get a cold seems to bring one on. I guess I am just very convincing. Currently I'm working on living like a millionaire... but it's taking a long time to manifest.
I can’t hear you anymore. There’s too much smoke down here. Is that you up there..playing with your old toaster? I SAAAIIDD…IS THAT… oh bollocks, I think I’ve just been sick in the fridge…Eeeeuwue…on the other hand, maybe not, there’s no sign of diced carrots…Hmmm…thinks…it looks a lot like seriously splodged trifle…oh whaaat..
STEEEEEVE!! THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE DOWN HERE AND THEY’VE BEEN TRASHIN OUR TRIFLE!!!
Phil: that's just Norman. He's fine. He used to live upstairs in the attic but started getting lonely after she died. He likes to dress up in her clothes. Other than that he's harmless.
Er. Stay out of the shower though...
Very funny. You missed haemorrhoids and death of a close relative. Jewish funeral is also a good one - got be underground within 24 hours and all that
Mark: Jewish funeral! Of course! What about a bar mitzvah?
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