Preach it brother.
I just had to get amazon to call UPS and tell them to deliver the damn package after they sent back one as undeliverable and were about to send back the second one for the same reason. And the reason they gave over the phone? Despite the fact that the package has the apartment number on it, her name wasn’t ON THE BUILDING. WTF??? Since when are we required to put our names on buildings in order to get packages?
:mad:
You’re not the only one, AG.
Coworker A faxed a note to our HR rep while on vacation. Coworker A will be on disability upon returning next week. We all knew it’d happen, but did anybody bother to find someone to take her place so I can have a day off? Of course not :rolleyes:
The boss will be on vacation next week too. Guess who’ll be doing his job at nowhere near his pay? :rolleyes:
Dear Beloved Employers, stop passing me over for promotion. I have the second or third best stats of the department, I have volunteered time and again for extra work, I have made time and money saving suggestions that you have shelved because you can’t implement them because you don’t have enough time or money, and the second levels aren’t getting all their work done.
Dear Coworkers, stop bitching about the new policies handed down from Those On High. They actually make sense. They will save the company money, keep the company from getting its ass sued off, and generally secure your employment for a little bit longer. Yes, it sucks right now. Grab your tits and get on with it.
Dear Neighboring Coworker, I hate you. I hate your moronic guffawing laugh. I hate that you will crack a joke you think is funny, and repeat it five minutes later because no one laughed (hint: it wasn’t funny). I hate that I can overhear you calling your wife and all the shmookie noises you make, and I really, really hate that as soon as you get off the phone, you say something like “fucking woman”. If you hate her that much, divorce her. I can pretty much promise you that none of the rest of us will take you. I’ve said once “please don’t use that language,” because I’m tired of hearing you drop F-bombs every twenty minutes. Some people can use the word “fuck” with style and grace. You are not one of them. Do it again, and I’ll talk to management. A second time, and I’ll take it to HR. Behave like a grown up, and I won’t have to disembowel you with your little motorized scooter.
Dear Parking Garage, the next time anyone asks you, please explain that parking spaces should be a little roomier than car width plus two inches. I’m tired of getting my car doors dinged and dinging other people’s car doors. Not to mention the slow motion limbo I do getting out of my little coupe every afternoon.
Dear Callers: you are the reason I have a job. I love most of you. Those I don’t love need to die quickly of some grossly disfiguring disease. Stop telling me I’m not fixing your problem when I explain that the IT high mucketies are allowed to go home over the weekend. It’s your sorry ass fault you didn’t call it in until 5:30 on a Friday. BTW, no, I’m not going to ignore corporate policy and give you your password over the phone. Also, no, I’m not going to page a network engineer to install your dingle-dangle keyboard that you probably just pulled (against policy) out of store stock. And, sorry, princess, but I’m not going to ask the network admin to add a computer that you “found at another store” to the network. It doesn’t have an asset tag, it doesn’t get to play those reindeer games. However, the incredibly cool manager up in Queens that calls me “sweetie” and “my love”, I will kill for you. I love you. And that goes for the rest of my department.
More details please, this sounds interesting.
It’s simple - we have government contracts and projects. It is very explicitly stated that for consultants we can pay them an “honorarium” and certain expenses, but absolutely nothing above coach airfare. Period.
Whoever wrote that was probably not six and a half feet talll and spending hours and hours on an airplane.
So we could, theoretically, pay the man $50,000 for his services but can’t have him donate his time to the project and just compensate him $1,000-1,5000 for a plane ticket to come to a meeting. Which is just fucking stupid, but a first class ticket is seen by the government as an unreasonable luxury regardless of the size of the person or the length of the flight.
Someone brought up the ADA angle, but since the man isn’t disabled - he’s just a big guy - that can’t be applied.
Can I do a non-work-for-me rant about someone else at their place of work? Well, why not.
:rolleyes: Not only did it take TWO baggers to bag the groceries this morning ( 
) but they were s…l…o…w… Really …s…l…o…w… Not only that, I saw their technique early on. I told to please not doublebag anything and please go ahead and fill the bags. Really. The bag can hold more than two Lean Cuisine entrees. Honest.
These two gals - both of whom, by the way, appeared a decade younger than me - then sssslllllooowwwlllyyy walked the bagged grocercies to the car. Usually, we have to tell folks to slow down so my disabled husband can keep up. This time, he was telling them to hurry up. Then they sssss…llllll…ooooo…wwww…llll…yyyy… started loading the trunk of the car. At which point I had had enough, started loading the damn car myself, kept one of the dipshits from plonking the crate of pop on top of the bread and chips, and shooed them away.
We got home. Half the stuff wasn’t just double-bagged… it was *triple-*bagged. One was QUADRUPLE bagged! Is it really necessary to 4-bag two red peppers and a bag of turnip greens?
My husband said they were “fucking retarded”
I said don’t insult people with genuine mental handicaps in that manner.
:rolleyes: Dear Professor: When you tell us you’re going to deduct points for improper grammar, try to make sure your OWN grammar is up to snuff.
:rolleyes: To my darling co-workers: I may make a few off-color jokes, but they’re actually funny, and never disgusting. Take note of this. The other guys I sit near are disgusting pigs, and their jokes are either blatantly racist or deal directly with anal copulation. Not funny inside the building.
:rolleyes: To the techs that I have to manage on the weekends: Are you sick? Try calling me. My powers of ESP aren’t quite what they used to be, and no, you didn’t send me an email.
:rolleyes: To the cock-sucking bastard that keeps calling at 8:30 am to get me to try a new service from direcTV - I hope you get anally raped on the Thanksgiving table my an ugly midget with a red hot poker and a fetish for hearing you squeal like a pig while your own mother cheers for the midget to “ride him like he owes you money and went ass-to-mouth with your twin sister.” No, I don’t want Starz superpack, Showtime, or anything else, including the lame-ass service you try to pass off as hi-speed internet. Go fuck yourself, and STOP CALLING ME!!
Sunday afternoon, 1:44 PM CDT. I’m in the office. Those photo captions aren’t going to write themselves. Meanwhile, there are three beautiful women at my house having a champagne and bloody mary brunch and probably stripping down to their panties and having a tickle fight.
Please note that the tickle fight part may merely be my fevered imaginings resulting from seeing Porky’s too many times as an adolescent. Maybe.
“Not three beautiful women [do not have] a champagne and bloody mary brunch, as bystander looks on.” is pretty all-purpose as a photo caption, and can be accurately applied to any number of different pictures.*
Feel free to copy and paste. I do not request attribution; the mere knowledge that I’m getting you nearer to where you would prefer to be is reward enough.
*if any of the pictures do depict three beautiful women, etc., etc., simply alter the caption as appropriate. Also, my email is in my profle. 