Three Men, Three Wishes
Three men: an editor, a photographer, and a journalist are covering a political convention in Miami. They decide to walk up and down the beach during their lunch hour. Halfway up the beach, they stumbled upon a lamp. As they rub the lamp a genie appears and says “Normally I would grant you three wishes, but since there are three of you, I will grant you each one wish.”
The photographer went first. “I would like to spend the rest of my life living in a huge house in St. Thomas with no money worries.” The genie granted him his wish and sent him on off to St. Thomas.
The journalist went next. “I would like to spend the rest of my life living on a huge yacht cruising the Mediterranean with no money worries.” The genie granted him his wish and sent him off to the Mediterranean.
Last, but not least, it was the editor’s turn. “And what would your wish be?” asked the genie.
“I want them both back after lunch” replied the editor, “the deadline for tomorrow’s newspaper is in about ten hours.
A Manager’s Decision Making
The manager of a large corporation got a heart attack, and the doctor told him to go for several weeks to a farm to relax. The guy went to a farm, and after a couple of days he was very bored, so he asked the farmer to give him some job to do.
The farmer told him to clean the shit of the cows. The farmer thought that to somebody coming from the city, working the whole life sitting in an office, it will take over a week to finish the job, but for his surprise the manager finished the job in less than one day.
The next day the farmer gave to the manager a more difficult job: to cut the heads of 500 chickens. The farmer was sure that the manager will not be able to do the job, but at the end of the day the job was done.
The next morning, as most of the jobs in the farm were done, the farmer asked the manager to divide a bag of potatoes in two boxes: one box with small potatoes, and one box with big potatoes.
At the end of the day the farmer saw that the manager was sitting in front of the potatoes bag, but the two boxes were empty. The farmer asked the manager: “How is that you made such difficult jobs during the first days, and now you cannot do this simple job?”
The manager answered: “Listen, all my life I’m cutting heads and dealing with shit, but now you ask me to make decisions.”
Top Ten “Out of Office” Replies
1. I am currently out at a job interview and will reply to you if I fail to get the position. I may be a little moody so be prepared.
2. You are receiving this automatic notification because I am out of the office. If I was in, chances are you wouldn’t have received anything at all.
3. Sorry to have missed you but I am at the doctor’s having my brain removed so I can be promoted to our management team.
4. I will be unable to delete all the unread, worthless emails you send me until I return from holiday on 18/10/08. Please be patient, and your mail will be deleted in the order it was received.
5. Thank you for your email. Your credit card has been charged GBP5.99 for the first 10 words and GBP1.99 for each additional word in your message.
6. The e-mail server is unable to verify your server connection and is unable to deliver this message. Please restart your computer and try sending again. (The beauty of this is that when you return, you can see how many in-duh-viduals did this over and over.)
7. Thank you for your message which has been added to a queuing system. You are currently in 352nd place and can expect to receive a reply in approximately 19 weeks.
8. Hi, I’m thinking about what you’ve just sent me. Please wait by your PC for my response.
9. I’ve run away to join a different circus.
10. I will be out of the office for the next 2 weeks for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me as ‘Lisa’ instead of ‘Les’.
Calling In Sick
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.
On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.
The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife’s wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially the new acquisition was no problem, but one morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. “Ed! the garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it.”
You know where the button is.” I protested through the shower (pitter- patter). “Reset it yourself!”
“I am scared!” She pleaded. “What if it starts going and sucks me in?” (Pause) “C’mon, it’ll only take a second.”
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence.
I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. Nay, it wasn’t a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink.
At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step manner.
Wild animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or flight” syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the “flight” option.
Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter.
At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”
If they had only known.
Call Centre vs Prison
IN PRISON you spend the majority of your time in an 8×10 cell.
IN A CALL CENTRE you spend most of your time in a 6×8 cubicle (if you’re lucky).
IN PRISON you get three meals a day.
IN A CALL CENTRE you only get a break for 1 meal and you have to pay for it.
IN PRISON you get time off for good behavior.
IN A CALL CENTRE you get rewarded for good behavior with more work.
IN PRISON a guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you.
IN A CALL CENTRE you must carry around a security card and unlock and open all the doors yourself.
IN PRISON you can watch TV and play games.
IN A CALL CENTRE you get fired for watching TV and playing games.
IN PRISON you get your own toilet.
IN A CALL CENTRE you have to share.
IN PRISON they allow your family and friends to visit.
IN A CALL CENTRE you cannot even speak to your family and friends.
IN PRISON all expenses are paid by taxpayers with no work required.
IN A CALL CENTRE you get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.
IN PRISON you spend most of your life looking through bars from the inside wanting to get out.
IN A CALL CENTRE you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars.
IN PRISON there are wardens who are often sadistic.
IN A CALL CENTRE they are called managers.
