love okra. What is wrong with it? But I take them and split them lengthwise and stuff them with spices and omg they are so good.
… and do what with them? Bake them like teeny-tiny stuffed zucchini? My okra plants are petering out and I have three orphaned pods on my counter - not enought to justify frying (making a whole batch of batter, heating up the oil, etc.)
</hijack>
I’m at my desk right now, eating peanut butter straight outta the jar. Why? Why do you care? I almost want someone to make a stupid comment here, so I can trot out one of my newly-learned comebacks.
Besides, I’m being polite and using a spoon today. Days when I’m the only one around, I go the finger route, uncouth heathen that I am. But an uncouth heathen with peanut-butter-breath, which is a vast improvement over some of the halitosis cases I’ve known (and had to sit near).
My wife caused me to reconsider my repulsion to okra by making a really wonderful frango com quiabo with it. I’m still not ready to throw my full support behind a plant that makes its own mucus, but she managed to prepare it in a way that minimized the slime component.
Correct response, in slightly hurt tones: “What’s eating you?”
It is a wise man who respects the good fortune and blessing of having an incarnation of the Goddess at hand to enlighten and instruct.
Quoting this for emphasis since it’s God’s own truth.
“Nobody now, but you could be.”
Aside from the fur outside? How about the snot-like consistency of what’s inside?
That said - I do like it in stews and soups.
I find smoking a joint helps before entering the office.
One reason I hate about working is having to deal with other human beings and having to involuntarily interact with other humans I would never talk to on the street.
I would of told co-worker one to go fuck his mother. Not loudly, but, yeah, “go fuck your mother.” This means to the asshole, “Leave me alone” in a non threatening but extremely rude matter.
To Customer 2, get some dog shit and send it to his office and address it, “With Love, The Unashitter.” Anonymity the spiritual foundation for revenge.
Or buy them some okra. Too subtle?
Agreed. I had a boss who was a bit of a health nut once. He decided to comment on my lunch all the time until I finally said “Do you know how rude you’re being? I’m eating my lunch!”. He left me alone after that.
I like this. If you tell the rude person to fuck off, or go fuck your mother, or whatever, you’re just being rude back – and escalating the rudeness. Politely but firmly pointing out the rudeness will probably get you a lot further. High road and all that.
Not nearly as much fun, though. Party pooper.
Another good suggestion. The holiday season isn’t far off!
I had a coworker once who not only commented on my lunch choices - she actually opened the lunch box I had sitting on my desk to see what I was going to be having!! :eek:
I got a new cubicle neighbor this week and he asks what I’m having for lunch, then asks me to bring him some next time. Young bachelors are so cute!
Yes, he’s kidding.
He liked dogs, too. So now you dog lovers all know what you are!
Well, that covers most situations, but if a co-worker brings one of the six most terrifying foods in the world for lunch, he realy should expect a comment or two. Lutefisk? BLECH!
Felafel? Are you a terrorist?
No, no, felafel is the afel of Satan. Falafel is what the terrorists eat. Or carolers. I can’t ever keep them straight.
There’s a joke in there somewhere about The Twelve Days of Christmas now needing 72 verses but I’m too lazy to write it and I’m sure the carolers want to get home before dawn.