Working hard is the worst possible career strategy

WORKING hard is the worst mistake anyone planning a successful career can make, research has revealed.

Getting your head down and really grafting is more damaging to your career prospects than absenteeism, incompetence, sexual harrassment or fistfighting colleagues in an open-plan office, according to new work by the Institute for Studies.

Professor Henry Brubaker explained: “Progressing through the ranks has no connection to hard work. It’s about networking, Powerpoint panache and constantly broadcasting your achievements.

“Anyone actually working has no time for any of that, because they’re too busy doing everyone else’s work. Consequently they go unnoticed and unrewarded. The fools.”

Chief operating officer Nathan Muir said: “I used to do actual work but then decided I’d have six months off and hang around agreeing with my superiors instead. They haven’t stopped promoting me since.

“It’s all perfectly fair. I even had an interview for this job, though my boss assured me over a sneaky pint that it was a done deal and that we were just doing it to keep HR happy.

Employee Emma Bradford said: “I work diligently and trust that the results will speak for themselves. Then Nathan says he did it.”

Five jobs I'm willing to do that your local council isn't, by Sir Rod Stewart

ALRIGHT? Rod here, raspy-voiced 70s singing sensation most recently seen shovelling gravel into potholes. And I’ll also do all this municipal shit: 

Pavement upkeep

I used to play with the Faces, but the only faces I’m bothered about these days are the faces of happy ratepayers strolling along a well-maintained pavement. I’ve always got the trowel out to tighten up loose slabs. Some people call that boring, probably the same types who think model trains are boring. They can piss off.

Bin collection

I know – nobody with hair this fantastic and trousers this tight should be seen dead on the back of a bin lorry. But every fortnight I hop on the back of the wagon with the lads. At 77, I’m not as fit as I used to be and I can’t shift a full wheelie bin, but you should see me with a food-waste caddy. Poetry in f**king motion, mate.

Selection of governors for local primary schools

When you’ve had as many birds as I have, picking governors is a doddle. You can tell the ones who’ll stick at it and the ones who are out for themselves. Yes I favour blondes 30 years my junior, but that still leaves them post-menopause with a lot of anger to take out on Ofsted.

Ensuring local businesses comply with trading standards regulations

I sang Do Ya Think I’m Sexy, but what’s truly sexy is a business that’s fully compliant with the law. And you can do this one while going about your day. Going to a cafe for a cuppa? Wander round the back and check the milk’s refrigerated. In a newsagent? Check the tobacco’s out of public view. It costs nothing.

Licencing

I started out busking with a harmonica, and I welcome any and all buskers to the streets of Harlow. But if they’re selling merch or using amplification devices, they’d better make bloody well sure they’ve got a licence and they operate only within permitted hours. Issuing on-the-spot fines is well within my purview, mate, and don’t f**king forget it.