The bloody German in the cube next to me

Following on from my previous post on Cube Land, and all the joys it has to offer, I am decidely pissed off this week with the young German intern that has recently set up his concentration camp near me. Loud Loud f*cking loud! I am living through 3 months of noise related to how the train system here is not 'engineered to ze zame spezzifications' as in his beloved Deutschland. Well he might be right, but does he have to announce it to everyone within a 4 cube radius?

Now the English have never really got on with the Germans. Some of you may remember the two minor skirmish's in Europe, one the result of an odd sychophant with one testicle and a comedy moustache. Plus, anyone who knows anything about English football, will know what happens in most penalty shootouts between England and Germany. But I have tried very hard to put these feelings aside and be objective about him, and them. Afterall, I drive a German car, which is one of the best machines on the road. I enjoy drinking German beer, which certainly tastes better than the crap coming through the pump in some of the bars here. I even like the odd spicy Bratwurst covered in mustard.

But, I can't get past one fact! I can put aside his annoyingly loud patronising tone. I can pretend not to hear his accent that I am sure I heard in a 1980's porn film from a supposed plumber that had arrived to fix a womans 'pipes'. I can even close my eyes when I see he has 'shoe-horned' his walrus like body into an outfit more fitting for a homosexual sailor in a dramatised vesion of HMS Pinafore. No, the one fact I can't get past, is that despite all this....

He is still German and an absolute TW*T!