DIARY: Tamsin Stevens: the worm that didn't just turn, but spat as well

Those at the top throwing their weight around mercilessly seldom

spare any thought for the underdogs who suffer in silence and attend to

their every whim.



But Tamsin Stevens, now a team secretary at Lowe Lintas & Partners, has

stopped gnashing her teeth for long enough to pen an ode championing the

cause for the underling. Having spent eight months at the production

company Garretts, her contempt for some of the people she had

encountered needed exorcising. "They were just horrible," Stevens

shudders. But who could the last verse be about? Draw your own

conclusions and prepare to be shocked:



You swing into the office

And create a lot of hype,

You're crazy, crazy animals

You lovey media types.

Demand a cappuccino

And sprawl across the chair,

Read a script and look intense

While flicking back your hair.

Talk about your yoga class

And, of course, your personal healer,

Your gorgeous flat in Fulham

And your darling cocaine dealer.

Your Buddhist religion groups,

Your fantastic nail technician,

Your homosexual hairdresser

Who cuts with such precision.

Your crappy pea-sized mobile,

Your crazy Champagne hell.

I may put sugar in your coffee

But I spit in it as well.



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