Rhona has taken complete charge of the office and we have been without computers for some time as she has taken the issues of computer security very very seriously.
Shortly after replacing Mr Angus' assistant who shame remain nameless (Rhona) she decided that all the email messages that she had sent and received and the pictures on the computer were 'inappropriate' and they had to be removed. Neither Kenny nor I were allowed near Rhona's computer during the entire process, but the constant stream of tutting, gasps and other disapproving sounds indicated that the contents of the hard drive were not as they should be. After three days, Rhona announced that she would have to clean the inbox and outbox on Mr Angus' computers and hired specialists to remove all traces of the photographs.
Mr Angus was up in arms at this suggestion, instructing me to tell Rhona that he was not allowing it to happen, especially not the removal of the photos as he had nowhere else to store them and if he had to take them home and Mrs Jane found them, then there would be trouble.
After a quick call to Mr Alex by Rhona who explained the nature and content of the hard drives, and the briefest of conversations between Mr Alex and Mr Angus, his computers were collected by security men the following morning, sealed, and transported away. A call from London indicated that his computers there had also been impounded. Later that day, Rhona also changed our passwords - pending 'cleansing' - and awaited further instructions.
After merely three weeks the specialists had managed to virtually purge almost every incriminating item of evidence, and Rhona was instructed to start on our computers. I was lucky, as apart from a few accidental page views of some sites I came across purely by accident and returned to only a few times, there was nothing on my computer, as all the good stuff is at home.
Later that day, Rhona froze Kenny with a strong glare and sought an explanation of why he was downloading dirty pictures onto a Government computer. Kenny swore profusely and went outside for five cigarettes, returning 10 minutes later to explain that they were research in case any further accusations were made against Mr Angus. Rhona pursed her lips into a tight line and banged her fist so hard on the desk that the photocopier flew off. Kenny slipped out for another 10 cigarettes, which he smoked simultaneously and was back five minutes later to confess that he was the one who subscribed online to "Sheep and shepherd", "Suits ewe, Sir", "Tractor fancier", the politics section of the Guardian and "Sheep - young and shorn".
As we were both made to sit in the corner for the rest of the week, in total disgrace, I declined his offer of a portion of aniseed lapwing scratchings, which were apparently on special offer this week at Cross Stores. Mr Angus phoned to tell us that we had collectively responsibility for the material on his computer, and he was going to explain to Mr Alex just why we shouldn't be punished too harshly for downloading all the wrong things onto his computer.
I am in despair, as this is a black mark and it probably means I won't get promoted to assistant to the apprentice to the trainee junior minister for Gaelic things.
Naughty pictures seen: 1
Time spent in corner: 28 hours (with daily toilet breaks)
Constituents spoken to: None
Vote SNP - we know where you live
Alasdair Allan
This is a private journal about all the exciting things that have happened to me since I stood as MSP for Gordon the Western Isles. I am dedicated to the people of Gordon the Western Isles, and there is nowhere else I would rather represent. I even intend to live there soon.
I am not to be mistaken for for that imposter who pretends to be an MSP.
I really like this dynamic and exciting blog layout, which suits me perfectly.
I am not to be mistaken for for that imposter who pretends to be an MSP.
I really like this dynamic and exciting blog layout, which suits me perfectly.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Computers handed back
I've read my wise words this many times
* No, not really. If you haven't worked out that this is a satirical exercise, then please get a life. And find one for Alasdair.