Bad Day at the Office
Hi Sue,
Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wet suit.
This time of year the water is quite cool.
So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature.
It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose.
Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wet suit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.
Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse.
Within a few seconds my ass started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened.
The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it, however, the crack of my ass was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my ass.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say, I aborted the dive.
I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totalling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression.
When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber.
The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't shit for two days because my ass was swollen shut.So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your ass.
Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wet suit.
This time of year the water is quite cool.
So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature.
It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose.
Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wet suit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.
Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse.
Within a few seconds my ass started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened.
The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it, however, the crack of my ass was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my ass.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say, I aborted the dive.
I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totalling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression.
When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber.
The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't shit for two days because my ass was swollen shut.So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your ass.
Bear's breakfast
Isn't it comforting to know that when you are about to become a bear's breakfast your mate is standing there taking photos?
Broke
Yesterday I answered a knock on the door, only to be confronted by a well-dressed young man carrying a vacuum cleaner.
'Good morning,' said the young man. 'If I could take a couple of minutes of your time, I would like to demonstrate the very latest in high-powered vacuum cleaners.'
'Go away!' I said. 'I haven't got any money!', 'I'm broke!' and proceeded to close the door.
Quick as a flash, the young man wedged his foot in the door and pushed wide open. 'Don't be too hasty!' he said. 'Not until you have at least seen my demonstration.' And with that, he emptied a bucket of horse manure onto my hallway carpet.
'If this vacuum cleaner does not remove all traces of this horse manure from your carpet, Sir, I will personally eat the remainder.'
I stepped back and said, 'Well I hope you've got a bloody good appetite, because they cut off my electricity this morning. What part of 'broke' do you not understand?'
'Good morning,' said the young man. 'If I could take a couple of minutes of your time, I would like to demonstrate the very latest in high-powered vacuum cleaners.'
'Go away!' I said. 'I haven't got any money!', 'I'm broke!' and proceeded to close the door.
Quick as a flash, the young man wedged his foot in the door and pushed wide open. 'Don't be too hasty!' he said. 'Not until you have at least seen my demonstration.' And with that, he emptied a bucket of horse manure onto my hallway carpet.
'If this vacuum cleaner does not remove all traces of this horse manure from your carpet, Sir, I will personally eat the remainder.'
I stepped back and said, 'Well I hope you've got a bloody good appetite, because they cut off my electricity this morning. What part of 'broke' do you not understand?'
Cannibals
A large corporation recently hired several cannibals. "You are all part of our team now", said the HR rep during the welcoming briefing. "You get all the usual benefits and you can go to the cafeteria for something to eat, but please.. don't eat any of the other employees".
The cannibals promised they would not. Four weeks later their boss remarked, "You're all working very hard and I'm satisfied with your work. However, one of our secretaries has disappeared. Do any of you know what happened to her?" The cannibals all shook their heads "No".
After the boss had left, the leader of the cannibals said to the others, "Which one of you dummies ate the secretary?" A hand rose hesitantly. "You fool!" the leader continued. "For four weeks we've been eating
managers and no one noticed anything. But NOOOooo, you had to go and eat someone who actually does something !!!"
The cannibals promised they would not. Four weeks later their boss remarked, "You're all working very hard and I'm satisfied with your work. However, one of our secretaries has disappeared. Do any of you know what happened to her?" The cannibals all shook their heads "No".
After the boss had left, the leader of the cannibals said to the others, "Which one of you dummies ate the secretary?" A hand rose hesitantly. "You fool!" the leader continued. "For four weeks we've been eating
managers and no one noticed anything. But NOOOooo, you had to go and eat someone who actually does something !!!"
Council Job
A bloke goes to the Local Council to apply for a job.
The interviewer asks him, 'Are you allergic to anything?'
He answers 'Yes - caffeine'
'Have you ever been in the services?'
'Yes,' he says. 'I was in Iraq for two years.'
The interviewer says, 'That will give you 5 extra points toward employment,' and then asks, 'are you disabled in any way?
The bloke says, 'Yes ...a bomb exploded near me and blew my testicles off.'
The interviewer tells the bloke, 'O.K. In that case, I can hire you right now.
Normal hours are from 8 AM to 2 PM.
You can start tomorrow at 10:00 - and plan on starting at 10 AM every day.'
The bloke is puzzled and says, 'If the hours are from 8 AM to 2 PM, why don't you want me to be here before 10 AM?'
'This is a council job,' the interviewer says.
'For the first two hours we just stand around drinking coffee and scratching our bollocks, not really any point in you coming in for that.'
The interviewer asks him, 'Are you allergic to anything?'
He answers 'Yes - caffeine'
'Have you ever been in the services?'
'Yes,' he says. 'I was in Iraq for two years.'
The interviewer says, 'That will give you 5 extra points toward employment,' and then asks, 'are you disabled in any way?
The bloke says, 'Yes ...a bomb exploded near me and blew my testicles off.'
The interviewer tells the bloke, 'O.K. In that case, I can hire you right now.
Normal hours are from 8 AM to 2 PM.
You can start tomorrow at 10:00 - and plan on starting at 10 AM every day.'
The bloke is puzzled and says, 'If the hours are from 8 AM to 2 PM, why don't you want me to be here before 10 AM?'
'This is a council job,' the interviewer says.
'For the first two hours we just stand around drinking coffee and scratching our bollocks, not really any point in you coming in for that.'
Crane Operator
Doctor Teaching
A Doctor had his students in a class where they were dissecting a body.
The Doctor said "Rule 1 class, don't be repulsed by anything in the human body", so he stuck his finger up the corpses arse, pulled it out and sucked it!
He told the students to do the same.
After hesitating, one by one they stuck their fingers up the corpses arse and sucked it.
The Doctor then said " I used my middle finger but I sucked my thumb".
Rule 2 - pay attention.
The Doctor said "Rule 1 class, don't be repulsed by anything in the human body", so he stuck his finger up the corpses arse, pulled it out and sucked it!
He told the students to do the same.
After hesitating, one by one they stuck their fingers up the corpses arse and sucked it.
The Doctor then said " I used my middle finger but I sucked my thumb".
Rule 2 - pay attention.
Every workplace needs a Todd
Fun in Retirement
Working people frequently ask retired people what they do to make their days interesting.
Well, for example, the other day my wife and I went to Worthing and went into a shop. We were only in there for about 5 minutes. When we came out, there was a cop writing out a parking ticket. We went up to him and said, "Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen a break?" He ignored us and continued writing the ticket. I called him a Nazi turd. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn tyres.
So my wife called him a shithead. He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more tickets he wrote.
Personally, we didn't care. We came into town by bus.
We try to have a little fun each day now that we're retired. It's important at our age.
Well, for example, the other day my wife and I went to Worthing and went into a shop. We were only in there for about 5 minutes. When we came out, there was a cop writing out a parking ticket. We went up to him and said, "Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen a break?" He ignored us and continued writing the ticket. I called him a Nazi turd. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn tyres.
So my wife called him a shithead. He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more tickets he wrote.
Personally, we didn't care. We came into town by bus.
We try to have a little fun each day now that we're retired. It's important at our age.
Hair smells nice
Every day, a male co-worker walks up very close to a lady at the coffee machine, inhales a big breath of air, and tells her that her hair smells nice.
After a week of this, she can't stand it anymore, takes her complaint to a Supervisor in the personnel department and asks to file a sexual harassment grievance against him.
The Human Resources supervisor is puzzled, and asks: "What's sexually threatening about a co-worker telling you your hair smells nice?"
The woman replies, "Its Keith. The midget."
After a week of this, she can't stand it anymore, takes her complaint to a Supervisor in the personnel department and asks to file a sexual harassment grievance against him.
The Human Resources supervisor is puzzled, and asks: "What's sexually threatening about a co-worker telling you your hair smells nice?"
The woman replies, "Its Keith. The midget."
High Power Worker
I'm here for the job interview
I was late for work because I missed the ....
Inland Revenue
Apparently, this is a real reply from the Inland Revenue.
The Guardian had to ask for special permission to print it.
Dear Mr Addison,
I am writing to you to express our thanks for your more than prompt reply to our latest communication, and also to answer some of the points you raise.
I will address them, as ever, in order.
Firstly, I must take issue with your description of our last as a "begging letter". It might perhaps more properly be referred to as a "tax demand". This is how we at the Inland Revenue have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred to such documents.
Secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst I have naturally not seen the other letters to which you refer I would cautiously suggest that their being from "pauper councils, Lombardy pirate banking houses and pissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your decision to "file them next to the toilet in case of emergencies" is at best a little ill-advised. In common with my own organisation, it is unlikely that the senders of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, come to that, a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a citizen of Great Britain, with a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of the nation as a whole.
Which brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be some spirit of truth in your assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a moment's rudimentary calculation ought to disabuse you of the notion that the government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole damned party" yourself. The estimates you provide for the Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst colourful, are, in fairness, a little off the mark. Less than you seem to imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and "dancing whores" whilst far more than you have accounted for is allocated to, for example, "that box-ticking façade of a university system."
A couple of technical points arising from direct queries
1. The reason we don't simply write "Muggins"on the envelope has to do with the vagaries of the postal system;
2. You can rest assured that "sucking the very marrow of those with nothing else to give" has never been considered as a practice because even if the Personal allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.
I trust this has helped. In the meantime, whilst I would not in any way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, I ought to point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole foul jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the money.
Please send it to us by Friday.
Yours sincerely,
H J Lee
Customer Relations
The Guardian had to ask for special permission to print it.
Dear Mr Addison,
I am writing to you to express our thanks for your more than prompt reply to our latest communication, and also to answer some of the points you raise.
I will address them, as ever, in order.
Firstly, I must take issue with your description of our last as a "begging letter". It might perhaps more properly be referred to as a "tax demand". This is how we at the Inland Revenue have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred to such documents.
Secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst I have naturally not seen the other letters to which you refer I would cautiously suggest that their being from "pauper councils, Lombardy pirate banking houses and pissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your decision to "file them next to the toilet in case of emergencies" is at best a little ill-advised. In common with my own organisation, it is unlikely that the senders of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, come to that, a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a citizen of Great Britain, with a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of the nation as a whole.
Which brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be some spirit of truth in your assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a moment's rudimentary calculation ought to disabuse you of the notion that the government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole damned party" yourself. The estimates you provide for the Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst colourful, are, in fairness, a little off the mark. Less than you seem to imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and "dancing whores" whilst far more than you have accounted for is allocated to, for example, "that box-ticking façade of a university system."
A couple of technical points arising from direct queries
1. The reason we don't simply write "Muggins"on the envelope has to do with the vagaries of the postal system;
2. You can rest assured that "sucking the very marrow of those with nothing else to give" has never been considered as a practice because even if the Personal allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.
I trust this has helped. In the meantime, whilst I would not in any way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, I ought to point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole foul jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the money.
Please send it to us by Friday.
Yours sincerely,
H J Lee
Customer Relations
I won't be in work today - Part 1
I won't be in work today - Part 2
A woman calls her boss one morning and tells him that she is staying home because she is not feeling well.
"What's the matter?" he asks.
"I have a case of anal glaucoma," she says in a weak voice.
"What the hell is anal glaucoma?"
"I can't see my arse coming into work today."
"What's the matter?" he asks.
"I have a case of anal glaucoma," she says in a weak voice.
"What the hell is anal glaucoma?"
"I can't see my arse coming into work today."
Negative People
A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband.. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:
"Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty.. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser." That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."
"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.."
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome .
"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.
And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.
Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh, really! What'd he say ?"
He said: "Who fucked up your hair?"
"Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty.. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"
"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"
"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser." That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?"
"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."
"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."
"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.."
"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome .
"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.
And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"
"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."
"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.
Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."
"Oh, really! What'd he say ?"
He said: "Who fucked up your hair?"
Oh Dear
A young executive was leaving the office late one evening when he found the CEO standing in front of a shredder with a piece of paper in his hand.
"Listen," said the CEO, "this is a very sensitive and important document here, and my secretary has gone for the night. Can you make this thing work?"
"Certainly," said the young executive. He turned the machine on, inserted the paper, and pressed the start button.
"Excellent, excellent!" said the CEO as his paper disappeared inside the machine. "I just need one copy."
"Listen," said the CEO, "this is a very sensitive and important document here, and my secretary has gone for the night. Can you make this thing work?"
"Certainly," said the young executive. He turned the machine on, inserted the paper, and pressed the start button.
"Excellent, excellent!" said the CEO as his paper disappeared inside the machine. "I just need one copy."
Parking
Plumber Required
Real Life Dilberts
A magazine recently ran a "Dilbert Quotes" contest. They were looking for people to submit quotes from their real-life Dilbert-type managers. These were voted the top quotes from the Dilbert's who inhabit our world ...
- "As of tomorrow, employees will only be able to access the building using individual security cards. Pictures will be taken next Wednesday, and employees will receive their cards in two weeks." (This was the winning quote from Fred Dales, Microsoft Corp. in Redmond WA)
- "What I need is an exact list of specific unknown problems we might encounter." (Lykes Lines Shipping)
- "E-mail is not to be used to pass on information or data. It should be used only for company business." (Accounting manager, Electric Boat Company)
- "This project is so important we can't let things that are more important interfere with it." (Advertising/Marketing manager, United Parcel Service)
- "Doing it right is no excuse for not meeting the schedule." (Plant Manager, Delco Corporation)
- "No one will believe you solved this problem in one day! We've been working on it for months. Now go act busy for a few weeks and I'll let you know when it's time to tell them." (R&D supervisor, Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing/3M Corp.)
- Quote from the Boss: "Teamwork is a lot of people doing what I say." (Marketing executive, Citrix Corporation)
- My sister passed away and her funeral was scheduled for Monday. When I told my Boss, he said she died on purpose so that I would have to miss work on the busiest day of the year. He then asked if we could change her burial to Friday. He said, "That would be better for me." (Shipping executive, FTD Florists)
- "We know that communication is a problem, but the company is not going to discuss it with the employees." (Switching supervisor, AT&T Long Lines Division)
Taking a sickie, American style - apparently a true story ...
We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone can top this one. . . .
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.
Initially, the new acquisition was no problem. Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."
"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"
"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."
Out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.
It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied dangling between my legs.
She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of kitten hanging from my masculine region. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option.
I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.
Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back into the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.
What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
If they only knew!
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.
Initially, the new acquisition was no problem. Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."
"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"
"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."
Out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.
It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied dangling between my legs.
She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of kitten hanging from my masculine region. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option.
I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.
Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back into the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.
What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
If they only knew!
The next time you complain about your job .....
The Race
Why I fired my Secretary.
Last week was my birthday and I didn't feel very well waking up on that morning..
I went downstairs for breakfast hoping my wife would be pleasant and say, 'Happy Birthday!', and possibly have a small present for me.
As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone ' Happy Birthday.'
I thought...
Well, that's marriage for you, but the kids... they will remember.
My kids came bounding down stairs to breakfast and didn't say a word, so when I left for the office, I felt pretty low and somewhat despondent.
As I walked into my office, my secretary Jane said, 'Good Morning Boss, and by the way Happy Birthday ! ' It felt a little better
that at least someone had remembered.
I worked until one o'clock, when Jane knocked on my door and said, 'You know, It's such a beautiful day outside, and it is your Birthday, what do you say we go out to lunch, just you and me.' I said, 'Thanks, Jane, that's the best thing I've heard all day. Let's go !'
We went to lunch. But we didn't go where we normally would go. She chose instead at a quiet bistro with a private table.
We had two martinis each and I enjoyed the meal tremendously.
On the way back to the office, Jane said, 'You know, It's such a beautiful day... We don't need to go straight back to the office,
Do We ?'
I responded, 'I guess not. What do you have in mind?' She said, 'Let's drop by my apartment, it's just around the corner.'
After arriving at her apartment, Jane turned to me and said,
'Boss, if you don't mind, I'm going to step into the bedroom for just a moment. I'll be right back.' 'Ok.' I nervously replied.
She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out carrying a huge birthday cake ... followed by my wife, my kids, and dozens of my friends and co-workers, all singing 'Happy Birthday'.
And I just sat there....
On the couch...
Naked.
I went downstairs for breakfast hoping my wife would be pleasant and say, 'Happy Birthday!', and possibly have a small present for me.
As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone ' Happy Birthday.'
I thought...
Well, that's marriage for you, but the kids... they will remember.
My kids came bounding down stairs to breakfast and didn't say a word, so when I left for the office, I felt pretty low and somewhat despondent.
As I walked into my office, my secretary Jane said, 'Good Morning Boss, and by the way Happy Birthday ! ' It felt a little better
that at least someone had remembered.
I worked until one o'clock, when Jane knocked on my door and said, 'You know, It's such a beautiful day outside, and it is your Birthday, what do you say we go out to lunch, just you and me.' I said, 'Thanks, Jane, that's the best thing I've heard all day. Let's go !'
We went to lunch. But we didn't go where we normally would go. She chose instead at a quiet bistro with a private table.
We had two martinis each and I enjoyed the meal tremendously.
On the way back to the office, Jane said, 'You know, It's such a beautiful day... We don't need to go straight back to the office,
Do We ?'
I responded, 'I guess not. What do you have in mind?' She said, 'Let's drop by my apartment, it's just around the corner.'
After arriving at her apartment, Jane turned to me and said,
'Boss, if you don't mind, I'm going to step into the bedroom for just a moment. I'll be right back.' 'Ok.' I nervously replied.
She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out carrying a huge birthday cake ... followed by my wife, my kids, and dozens of my friends and co-workers, all singing 'Happy Birthday'.
And I just sat there....
On the couch...
Naked.