As my lad once said at a job interview many years ago, well after he had been given the job:
“I’m ducksleasic you know.”
“WTF is that, do you mean dyslexic?”
“Yes but I can’t spell it!”
The job, assembling and testing radio and stereo equipment, was one that he really, really wanted and he lasted until the company folded as a result of cheap Asian outsourcing. He always got on well there because of that SOH.
Everyone in our family has to have a daft SOH and be able to laugh at themselves. I insist upon it.
When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.
.
