I’ve just been tidying up my cube here at the jolly old office, and discovered that a couple of my toys were missing. Nothing valuable; just a few little trinkets I had sitting out so people could fiddle with them while they were waiting for me.
I’d like to address the following to the stupid bastard who took my stuff, though any speculative insights from decent people would be appreciated as well:
Where the fuck do you get off just waltzing off with stuff that doesn’t belong to you? Hey, this isn’t like last summer when you or one of your bottom-dwelling kindred absconded with a dozen of my CDs-- I’m guessing you sold those. Asshole. But did you really need my wind-up, fire-breathing plastic nun? What possible use are you going to get out of it? And the Beanie crab? It’s not even a rare Beanie, dickweed! If it was, I wouldn’t have had it sitting there, I’d have long ago sold it to somebody who cared!
:mad: :mad: :mad:
There would be plenty more profanity here, but this is my first pit rant, and I like to pace myself.
… although since this is the Pit, the bright side can get bent.
Coldfire, I agree! I’m thinking Beanie Crab would be a fitting name for the lead singer.
UncleBeer, my dear mother purchased my Nunzilla for me a couple years ago. I’m not sure where she got it, but I know you can get one from the Archie McPhee catalogue:
They also have a boxing nun (I have one), a yard nun, and packs o’ ten little nuns you can use as finger puppets. I’ve also seen Nunzilla for sale here in NYC at a shop called Alphabets.
Sometimes I steal things by accident. Really. I’ll go home and empty my pockets and out will pop someone else’s lighter. Or I’ll be sifting through my bag and wonder where I got that really cool pen.
If I know who it belongs to I’ll give it right back, but sometimes it’s: Where in the hell did I get this cat’s eye marble?
I had a problem with office theft, too. Here’s how I fixed it:
I put little labels on everything with the words, “Enjoy your stolen item, THIEF” on all my stuff. Then, in another inconspicuous place, I put a dot of white-out.
After I did this, I noticed that stuff had been moved on my desk, but not taken. I guess I just had a guilt-laden thief.
Much later, my favorite toy (a magic 8-ball) turned up missing. I went searching and saw one on a guy’s desk on another floor. When I asked him about it, he said that it was his, and that I couldn’t prove that it wasn’t. It didn’t have my little label on it, but did have my white-out dot. Since my supervisor knew of the problems I’d been having, he knew that it was my toy, and I got it back.
(The guy was fired later for taking office supplies.)
Why just today I walked in and sat down at my cubicle and my Homer Pez dispenser was missing. I made EVERYONE around me know that my Homer Pez Dispenser had been stolen and how pissed I was and I threw a little tantrum. People were just kinda starring at me.
Then good news! I found it seconds later behind my monitor! :rolleyes: oh well.
I work for a toy and gift company, where toys are in abundance. Office supply theft is the main problem around here. Many of my co-workers don’t consider it theft when they take pens, post it notes, etc. off my desk; they look upon it as “reallocating” supplies. When someone quits the company, it doesn’t take long before that office is raided and emptied of all the really good supplies. Occasionally I get my pilfered pens back, but with chewed caps. Fortunately, stolen items can usually be replaced, and the nun is no exception. You can get one at the Needful Things website (sorry, don’t have the URL).
Sadly, B-Line, my nun, unlike your Homer, is still missing. I can only hope she’s gone to a better place… I miss the way sparks would fly out of her tiny mouth, the way she clutched her itsy bitsy ruler, the green reptilian eyes…
Anyway, I’ve locked my stuffed armadillo up nice and snug. He, at least, will remain safe.
(I’d like to pause for a moment and point out how proud my dear sainted mother will be to learn that the first thing I’ve ever written that has received any kind of attention has the word “dickweed” in it )
I feel your pain, Rosebud. No foolin’. I would never, in the least, denigrate your loss of your Nunzilla.
However, if your cow orkers are truly so desperate as to want to acquire fire-breathing plastic nun dolls or stuffed armadilloes on five-finger discount, you may want to consider getting a job somewhere else. Say, Tokyo, where you’ll be as about as far as possible from these nutcases (and with a continent and an ocean between you and them, besides. Personally, I’d opt for a position in the Alpha Centauri system, myself, but tastes differ).
It is graduation week at the esteemed institution for which I work. It is very, very busy. My bf was away from his desk attending to things various and sundry for most of the day, so, good girlfriend that I am, I left a couple of lovely chocolate truffles on his desk. They’ll be a nice break in his hectic day, I thought.
Someone stole the truffles.
Out of his locked office. To which only faculty and staff have keys.
Sheesh! Pens, Nunzillas, stuffed armadillos and now truffles!
These are hard times we live in. A bit of sabatoge that I am NOT recommending (lawyers of the board, take note) but in college we had problems with caches of emergency chocolate getting swiped.
Until a ruthless and creative victime conceived the happy idea of spiking a particularly luscious horde of chocolate truffles with Ex-Lax.
The Vile Miscreants were very easy to identify. They were the ones in the john-down-the-hall, camped out in a stall and moaning pitifully.
)