Once upon a time the government had a vast scrap yard in the middle of a desert.
Parliament said, “Someone may steal from it at night.” So they created a night watchman position and hired a person for the job.
Then Parliament said, “How does the watchman do his job without instruction?” So they created a planning department and hired two people, one person to write the instructions, and one person to do time studies.
Then Parliament said, “How will we know the night watchman is doing his tasks correctly?” So they created the Quality Control Department and hired two people. One to do the studies and one to write the reports.
Then Parliament said, “How are these people going to get paid?” So they created a timekeeper and a payroll officer position. Then hired two people.
Then Parliament said, “Who will be accountable for all of these people?” So they created an administrative section and hired three people: An Administrative Officer, Assistant Administrative Officer, and a Legal Secretary.
Then Parliament said, “We have had this command in operation for one year, and we are $18,000 over budget, we must cutback overall cost.” So they laid off the night watchman.
A pensioner approached a parking officer placing a ticket on a windshield.
“You lot are all the same!” she said. “You can never just give a pensioner a break. Pack of heartless bastards.”
The officer, clearly not in a good mood, wrote out a second ticket – this time with an even heftier fine – and placed it on top of the first. “Anything else you’d like to add?” he asked, smugly.
“Absolutely!” says the pensioner. “Your mother worked in a fish market! You smell like you were born under the filleting bench!”
“That’s it!” says the officer, scribbling madly into his book. “This is every fine I can think of!” he shouted, jamming a huge wad of papers under the wiper.
The pensioner shrugged, turned and walked away.
“Where are you going?” shouted the officer.
“Home,” she replied with a giggle. “That’s not my car”.