Sorry Harmonix but CIA here in down under land stands for “Caravan Industry Australia”, not the American version of the CIA at all.
Although maybe we are a front for the real CIA and Mr. Moron is actually a uber spy sent to find out whats really going on and I’m the stupid one for not realising.
Maybe the beer fridge is kept locked up because its got top secret documents in it and the whole “beer fridge” thing is just a disguise… hmmm might break into the beer fridge and review some of the contents… just to check their authenticity you understand…
Let me get this straight. You. Have. A. “Beer Fridge”. At. Work.
If it wern’t for all the poisonous things you all have living in every corner of that nation, I might be tempted to move there. (I saw a Discovery Channel thing about the various poisonous snakes, spiders, bugs and so on that live in Australia. I think it was made by the Australian Anti-Tourism board.)
Beer fridge at work. Hmm… Nope, just can’t get my head around that.
I’m glad I’m not the one who will have to try to sort out the mess when he folds envelopes and puts them in letter
That’s really very nice of your boss, but still… perhaps someone should explain the concept of survival of the fittest to him.
Your intellectually-challenged workmate’s cousin is working in my office (mine’s from the bright side of that particular family, so is able to tie shoelaces, but still forgets one thing he knew for each new thing he learns). After five months in the job, he is unable to comprehend any of the computer programs we use and still doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. Originally he blamed the lady who was supposed to teach him, said she didn’t explain anything and left him confused, and so I felt sorry for him and gave him a helping hand. Despite his gratitude and assurances that I’ve helped him soooo much, he still doesn’t have a clue about even the basic stuff. It’s really pathetic - because I’ve only worked there six months myself! On the other hand, I feel really bad about losing patience with him because he’s not so bad (now that he’s stopped calling me baby).
NO! Your boss is interfering in the natural order of things. See, if your cow-orker were to be somehow teleported back in time to the caveman era, his fellow cave people would either kill him, let him starve to death, or cheer wildly when he did something no self-respecting caveperson would do, that instantly led to his death (like trying to milk a male wooly mammoth or something). Your employer, by trying to help someone, who obviously doesn’t have the IQ of an ameoba, is increasing the odds that moron-man will be able to reproduce, thus sullying the gene pool. The best thing to do would be to simply let nature take its course. Think of it as passive eugenics.
We had a beer fridge at work. In San Francisco, California, USA. It wasn’t locked but it was in the boss’s office. Whenever someone had a birthday party or going-away party we’d “accidentally” overestimate the amount of beer and wine we’d need so we’d have leftovers. If we ever ran out I was frequently called upon to go on beer runs. Luckily only a few of us were really drinkers, so it worked pretty well.
When I lived in Washington, I had a housemate who worked in a lawyer’s office. These were good ole boys par excellence: they gave hundred-dollar birthday presents to their administrative staff, they drank two bottles of wine with lunch, they dictated letters to clients beginning with “Dear Bitch,” expecting the typist to translate for them.
And they had Sam Adams in their office. On tap.
It was apparently reserved for the attorney’s use only. But still.
We have a beer fridge here, too! Unfortunately, they won’t let us keep beer in it anymore. Bastards.
I think Terry Pratchett summed it up best: when Death asked for a list of non-dangerous animals on a continent that was most assuredly NOT Australia*, he was presented with a sheet of paper that read: “Some of the sheep.”
Now, to get back on the topic of the OP, I think we can all hope that he will not manage to figure out that tricky procreation thing.
During the last decade here in the beautiful, downtown Silicon Valley, most companies were okay with a “dogs and beer” workplace environment. I.e. it was okay to bring your dog to work, and to drink beer there.
It’s nice to help people out, but there are competent people who need jobs too. Surely we can find something else for the morons to do. Maybe they could all run on treadmills and generate electricity. Not only would it be environmentally friendly, and leave real jobs open to qualified people, but they would get to tell their friends that they work at the power plant. Everybody wins.
Did I happen to mention that my boss requires me to bring our dog Tarquin to work at least once a month
Mind you I think Tarquin is smarter than Mr. Moron, he (the dog) got out of the yard this morning, ran around the block and then came back - with a bottle of beer!!! Go Puppy
This temp guy definately sounds like some prime management material. Maybe you could get him employed at the Vegemite factory. He could manage the people who taste test the stuff.
Wow, employment opportunities must be terrific in Oz if even troglodorks like this can find work. Fellow Unemployed Dopers of America, I propose we contemplate a mass move to Australia . . .
