EFFING and blinding in the workplace is getting executives hot under their stiff, white collars. They are getting so irate that the Institute Of Directors, which represents 50,000 of these delicate little flowers, is now calling for a ban on bad language and four-letter words.

Knickers to that, you may think (or words to that effect), we're all grown-ups and we can handle a bit of blue without fainting into the photocopier or dodging under the desk, later to be discovered, covered in cobwebs and quivering with fear, by a bemused cleaning lady.

But it seems some grown-ups, particularly those in big, posh cars with holiday homes in the Algarve, can't handle it. Which surprises me, because in my experience it is usually those at the top who set the swearing agenda.

I've worked for a variety of bosses down the years (the many, many years - God, I'm old) and each one has had a very different style. Some have been gentle cajolers, some have been vicious backstabbers and some have been roister-doister, let's get down the effin' pub and drink ourselves senseless swearers.

In every case, the boss's character, whether they were quiet as a church mouse or loud as a church organ, defined the atmosphere. If they swore, the office was rife with swearing.

So, perhaps these irate executives should try setting a new agenda themselves before calling in nanny to wash offenders' mouths out with soap, leaving them time to concentrate on more pressing office problems... such as when colleagues answer their mobile phone mid-conversation. One minute we're having a serious discussion about important matters of state, such as what the "monsters" on Lost really are or what our favourite chocolate bar is (plain chocolate Bounty, in case you feel the need to treat me), and the next I'm muttering to myself while my erstwhile companion starts another conversation and waves me away dismissively.

I've gone to all the effort of walking the three yards from my desk to theirs to have a chat and all they've done is hit speed-dial. If it's an emergency involving severed limbs or a dead relative (immediate relatives only, not some second cousin twice removed who you haven't seen since you were both six-year-old bridesmaids at Auntie Gladys's second marriage to her first husband), then please feel free to continue your call. If not, phone them back later.

And on a similar phone-related topic, can executives persuade the Institute Of Directors to ban people from walking and texting at the same time. If I have to dodge athletically out of the way one more time as a colleague meanders blindly around the office, thumbs a-flying, I may be forced to take extreme action. Such as stuffing their head in the fax machine and dialling Kuala Lumpa.

I'd also like to see a ban on saying "hello". This wouldn't be a blanket ban: a quick hello in the morning would remain compulsory. It would only come into force when a colleague felt compelled to say "hello" every time they passed my desk on the way to the coffee machine.

A hello on your first pass is acceptable, after that, however, a sliding scale of punishments should be introduced. A second hello would lead to a Chinese burn; a third to a severe beating with a slide-rule; a fourth to a public beheading; and a fifth to a written warning, although I hope it would never come to that.

And finally, may I turn your attention away from potty-mouths to potty-training.

If executives have a few hours to kill, I suggest they stand outside the loos yelling "flush!" at regular intervals. I don't know what things are like in the men's, but I can tell you there is some very unladylike behaviour going on the ladies' room.

You know who you are, you flippin' bunch of heckheads.

Updated: 10:17 Monday, August 29, 2005