Where have all the Cowboys gone?

Mr Bojangles very gallantly did some fishing around at work this morning to find out if there is anything more I can do about my poor broken leg. It's already recorded in the Accident Book Hall of Fame, and apparently that is all I can do at this stage - at least it is logged in case it gets worse and I have to be rushed from work for an emergency amputation.

If I had my way I would be organising a picket line around the step area stirring up shit for the company. Steel-coated steps are the worst idea known to man. Why not do away with the steps altogether and have us scramble up a mountain of razor blades to the third and fourth floors? Much better idea!

But how sweet is Mr Bojangles? He is a very lovely guy - there should be way more like him out there and maybe there are, but I've never seen them. They have possibly gone the same way as white dog poo.