Being able to shmooze your way up the corporate ladder is a valuable skill. This has given rise to the yes men, a subculture of business folk who will unquestionably validate their superior's decisions, no matter how ridiculous or absurd. To get on in business, there are worse things to be than a yes man.
That's why I took a leaf out of Danny Wallace's book (and Jim Carey's movie), and started saying yes to everything. It annoyed my girlfriend when she asked if I wanted toast or cereal and I could only reply "yes". However, this led me to discover the delights of cornflakes on toast.
So after several sales in which I signed up for a 24 month contract with LoveFilm and put in a claim for missold PPI, I decided to put my "yes" word to use at work.
Things got off to a bad start after my boss asked if I could explain why there was porn on my computer. I told him "yes". He asked if I had a sex addiction. I said "yes". He asked if I was prepared to go into rehab. I answered "yes" once more, and found myself at Sexual Deviants Anonymous.
I did quite well in the group. The group leader was impressed with my positive attitude and willingness to admit to the deepest, perviest stuff imaginable.
That night I went to celebrate my progress at group by going to a bar. I was stood waiting to order a drink when another patron brushed up against the girl next to me. She turned and said to me "did you just grope me?" I replied the only way I knew how, and before I knew it, I was at the police station admitting to string of similar assaults across the city. Once they found out about my sex addiction, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and I was given 18 months behind bars. It seems that being the resident sexual deviant means that other inmates have a predisposition to sexually assault you, especially when you cry out "yes!"