The boss was walking by when I had the front page pulled up. She looks over my shoulder and says “What the hell is that?!” (points to the cartoon of the missle)
I said "Uh, it’s a missle. "
Her: “oh, I thought it was… oh nevermind, carry on.”
Eh, at least its good to know where the boss’s mind is at.
Haha, that’s beautiful.
You now have a free pass to look at porn at work. When your boss looks at your screen and says “Hey, that’s a photo of hot monkey sex!”, you can say “Nuh uh, it’s a Sherman Tank.”
Because you now have credibility.
You know, I was going to pit the artist for being such a jeuvenile one trick pony with his predictable sexual innuendos. Alas, I’ve mentioned it once before and (very nearly) got away with it. Needless to say, I’m not a fan of his work. Still, it’s not the “art” that keeps bringing me back.
[Freud]
Sometimes a missile is just a missile.
[/Freud]
[George Carlin]
And sometimes its a big brown dick!
[/George Carlin]