Aaaaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!! The horror of an 'over-run'. My associates are all very insistent that under no circumstance must this meeting run beyond three o'clock, as all have pressing engagements later, utterly unalterable and unmoveable. Yet here we are at quarter to...shit, panic, rush, panic. Actually the only thing getting rushed is the torrent of verbiage, locquacity and linguistic diarrhoea that gushes forth, undammed. Each needs to have the last word, their example being the one that most accurately illustrates the point upon which we are all agreed anyway, but just need to gain that final consent. Overkill? Even I've just shut the fuck up at this stage. I know we agree, so do you, guys, so let's just get on with it, especially if you're all in such a hurry to go somewhere else. But no, we have numerous ways of saying the same thing, to make sure that we are all clear, to elucidate, clarify, describe, illuminate, confirm, concur, and finally, agree. To wring the last drop of concorde from the conversation, on an issue we all know we are decided upon. It's moronic.
So when we finish late, folks, please; no beefing.