Much is said about the glass ceiling, wether its real, wether its an excuse, etc.
Mostly, it's fake. Sort of.
Before you lob onto my front doorstep to punch my lights out, just bear with me a minute.
Imagine that corporate ladders are handled thus...
All applicants are brought into a hangar. The suits are formed in a line (with the present CEO at the far end), and they explain that your appointment will depend on how far down the line you get. The first applicant to reach the far end will succeed the CEO.
Then, as one, they turn round, drop their trousers, and bend over to present their bottoms for you to kiss one by one.
Do you have a meeting to complain about the glass ceiling?
Do you don the ChapStik, pucker up, and lavish wet, sloppy kisses on each and every pudgy, pasty, pimply buttock, being sure to slip your card into the cleft before proceeding to the next?*
Or do you give it your best shot, make various degrees of progress, but vomit at some unforseeable point?
THAT is the glass ceiling... your "chunder-point". With or without a c-ck.
*(the present CEO did that)
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