"You're ten minutes late!" he muttered, angrily as he eyed the big Ben Wall clock (it was always ran 4-minutes late anyway).

"Yea, I know," I replied offering no excuses for my tardiness. As I rounded the corner of my desk he began to spot the faint trail of blood that had been following me since I left my car.

"WHAT HAPPENED!" he exclaimed with great disbelief (and so early in the morning).

"Oh, that?" I said flatly, "I fell on the ice and broke my woman parts." I made no excuses because this hadn’t been the first time it had happened and it mostly certainly was not going to be the last.