Guru

Keeping the boundaries of paranoia firmly in place, and in a bid to deter the... er... Taliban from trying to join the Texas police force in the good ol’ US of A (like they would), in 2005 the authorities there banned facial hair for officers – dubiously on the grounds that in the event of a ‘tourist’ attack, gas masks would not fit snuggly over an over-hairy chin.

This was a surprising enough move given that the average Texan male tends to be wedded to a Tom Sellick-esque top lip caterpillar.

And now, it seems, it has come back to bite the force on the behind (the law, that is, not the pre-Butterfly organism)as a quartet of fuzzy-faced Texcops are suing the force because their status and pay have been diminished.

The lawsuit argues the ban disproportionately affects black officers as it is unfair on people with a skin condition known as pseudofolliculitis barbae, which affects those who shave and causes rashes, ingrowing hair and severe irritation – something Guru knows all about, having shared a bathroom with Mrs Guru for the past two decades.

Rebutting the claims, the Texas police force has argued that it allowed the men to wear a bag on their heads to counter the problem – those open-minded Texans have always been fond of wearing hoods, after all.

However, turning up to patrol the streets with an ill-fitting facial sack would clearly diminish the high level of respect generally afforded to the non-white community in the southern states.

Which pretty much upholds the officers claim of loss of status.

That, and the fact the condition primarily affects men of an afro-caribbean origin, suggests to Guru that the officers have every chance of winning their case as this is a clear case of facial harassment.

Always having been a fan of the ridiculous, Guru was heartened to read in Personnel Today's Work Clinic blog about the 'new' concept of 'moofing' - a term allegedly coined by a Mr Moof.

After a quick calendar check to be sure it was not 1 April, Guru continued his reading, and swiftly learned that a 'moofer' is 'part of a generation of flexible workers, where staff have the power to choose where, when and how they want to work' - a flexible worker, then.

Now, Yours Truly is all for acryonyms, slang and any form of wordplay, but 'moofer' allegedly comes from the 'loose acronym' - a cunning term for something that isn't an acronym - based on the term 'mobile out of office'.

Disciple Mike passed on news to Guru that the hospital beds of seriously ill Muslim patients are to be turned to face Mecca.

Apparently Dewsbury District Hospital up north is also teaching its nursing staff in how to help patients with their faith worship.

Now, Yours Truly has actually visited West Yorkshire on a fact-finding mission and came into contact with several locals with a Mecca obsession.

It seems Guru at last has the ear of the bewigged and be-robed stocking-wearers of the land at last. Or at least one of the self-confessed 'big guns' of the profession at least.

Just weeks after revealing, that judges were getting out of their pram over plans to make them undergo work performance assessments and mere months after exposing the otherworldly fools for the otherworldly fools they often are by virtue of one judge admitting total ignorance of the internet, the BBC has revealed that five judges will be given media training to enable them to pass comments on things like, prison sentences, judicial proceedings, the finer points of the law and - and this is the tough one - real life.

All very admirable, were it not for the fact that judges already see fit to pass comment - much of it as useful as passing wind - on any number of subjects.

Why only a few days ago, one of our enlightened learned friends said that thousands of criminals should have their jail terms cut because they're living in "conditions that are wildly overcrowded" and in "dreadful conditions, locked up with one or two other people, or forced into a situation where there is no exercise".

Fancy that – criminals living in cells, with limited access to drinks, drugs, prostitutes..

The poor lambs. Let's set them all free to gambol across the fields to some judges stately pile where they can indulge in a bit of squatting, petty larcency and car crime.

Laughably, the judge suggested that how full the prisons were be considered when sentencing. How would that work? Perhaps like this:

Judge Twit: "Rape? Let's have a look at the log book... Hmmm... seems you would be subject to horrendous treatment on account of being scum. And you'd have to share a cell with several axe murderers. Well, as it's only a crime against a woman, you'd best walk."

Judge Spank: "Assault and battery? Racist? Well, you're a violent chappy, but there are no cells available, and while we'd like to bang you up with some illegal migrant gangmasters, I'm afraid I'll just have to let you go."

Judge Twonk: "Murderer? Now let me see... Hmmm, no room at the inn, sorry. You're pardoned. Would you like some compensation to go with that?"

A woman whispering in conspiratorial tones into her phone at work would seem to Guru as much a part of everyday office life a member of the female species turning down sugar in her tea because she’s on a diet and then buying a Kit Kat.

So it is amazing to think that one employee’s suspicions over a snatched conversation at work led to the unravelling of a five-year plot involving a faked death, an insurance scam and a new life in central America.

News that the police are getting uppity over the government's decision to ignore the ruling of the arbitration service Acas on what they should be paid is clearly bad news for the boys and girls in blue.

But Guru can't help thinking that it is also a sign that, despite the current crazy gang... sorry... government's constant attempts to raise the temperature and instill a permanent CLIMATE OF FEAR in the UK, there is no way it would be able to take the next step.

After all, to leap to a society of scared and down-trodden plebs ruled by a neo-fascist labour dictatorship requires the assistance of a pliable and compliant set of police officers.

Is it any wonder that HR has the reputation it does when, at a time when everyone else is writing to Father Christmas asking for a new bike, or a new kidney for little Johnny, the most loathed department outside IT is clogging up Santa’s postbag with a warning about employment legislation?

Yep, completely missing the point of the season of goodwill to all men, HR consultancy PES eagerly penned its litigious note and posted it to Lapland...

Nice to see that Christmas spirit extends to the good folk of Liverpool – those folk so tarnished by their association with the big bad Boris (the Turk) Johnson.

Johnson made the mistake of dissing the good people of the rain-soaked north western port – berating them for 'wallowing in their victim status', on account of their sea gates facing the US rather than Europe.

Well in the past few months, the so-called wallowers have taken matters into their own hands in a bid to change their ways.

Nearly a year ago, Yours Truly visited the subject of sex and training. More specifically, how topless teachers could inspire students to ever greater heights.

OK, even more specifically, how 'Sexpresso' coffee lounges could be combined with 'espresso training' to give the learner an altogether more... um... rounded coaching (or should that be couching?) experience.

As with all things connected with training innovations the concept was essential 'pants'.

However, it proved a inspirational for Guru, for surely there is a market out there for business slogans on pants.

Rather than the regular Spiderman or Batman undergarments, businessmen could be persuaded to wear company slogans on their pants. Don't just walk the talk and talk the talk, and talk the walk – wear the vision.

'Cash is king', 'wad a way to go', 'money talks', 'look at the size of my packet' – the options are endless.

It would certainly be less offensive than 'comedy socks' and 'fun ties' and 'twat jacket linings', which are all just too irritating.

Guru welcomes all suggestions for slogans that should be put on your pants – or indeed your panties. Examples, in a suitable brown envelope, can be sent to Guru at the usual address.

Yours Truly has a soft spot for the country that is Bulgaria.

However, having purchased a 28-room mansion just outside Sofia (for less than the price of a Fortnum & Masons hamper), getting staff to run the property has proved somewhat of a challenge.

It seems that the native population has gone native and... er... gone to the UK.

Now Guru is all for European integration but when it starts to affect his own small world view it becomes a bit of a chore. A chore that no-one is prepared to take on, it seems.

So ads have been placed in the shops of Timbuktu as Guru feels there's little chance of that fine city's residents absconding without the help of an unscrupulous gangmaster or a leg up from Yours Truly.

Meanwhile, the Bulgarian mansion remains a cold and distant place, but perhaps springtime will see an influx of hungry Mali-folk keen to please their new boss.
It goes without saying that there will be a serious vetting process as in the CLIMATE OF FEAR that still pervades the Western world, importing people from the home of Islam is potentially not such a smart move.

With the banks getting all jumpy about lending money to one another on account of money lenders being a risky prospect, it occurred to Guru that things have gone badly wrong since the days of the pay packet.

The pay packet, for those of a younger disposition, was a little brown envelope – often with enticing plastic window feature – handed out to workers at the end of every week of high-performance work.

Guru's first pay packet contained the princely sum of £4.80, which, at the time, seemed like a king's ransom. Admittedly, a ransom that would possibly buy the king of Mali, but a welcome cash injection nonetheless.

Of course, nowadays pay goes straight into the bank.

But can this be right? Straight into the hands of the very people who make a living out of lending money to unsuspecting fools, who now, when it comes to the crunch, are unwilling to lend 'their' – ie, your – money to each other.

Jesus – that beardy icon of the Christian religion – drove the money lenders from the temple on account of them being the lowest form of life and not being fit to hold a candle. While not condoning such brutalist tactics, it seems the 'cross one' had a point – although he was brought to book by the beancounting Romans whose policy of 'lend me your ears' rather than 'give me the shirt off your back' seemed, at the time, a more sensible proposition, despite the threat of rudimentary lughole surgery.

The Jesus point was that having your own wad was important.

So, siding with the financial genius that was the messiah, Guru feels that it's time to bring back the pay packet.

Apart from generating jobs for people with the skills to build small brown envelopes, Yours Truly feels that this would inspire the country by giving the population a tangible sense of their true worth (be it £4.80 or £200,000 a week), thereby encouraging low-paid Bulgarians to return to their homeland to take up important jobs in a big house just outside the capital.