15-mar-06

[Pat]

A boss wondered why one of his most valued employees had not
phoned in sick one day. Having an urgent problem with one of the main
computers, he dialled the employee's home phone number and was greeted with a child's whisper.
"Hello."
"Is your daddy home?" he asked.
"Yes," whispered the small voice.
May I talk with him?"
The child whispered, "No."
Surprised and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your
Mommy there?"
"Yes."
"May I talk with her?"
Again the small voice whispered, "No."
Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, "Is anybody else there?"
"Yes," whispered the child, "a policeman."
Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss
asked, "May I speak with the policeman?"
"No, he's busy", whispered the child.
"Busy doing what?"
"Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the Fireman," came the whispered
answer.
Growing more worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter through
the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, "What is that noise?"
"A helicopter" answered the whispering voice.
"What is going on there?" demanded the boss, now truly apprehensive.
Again, whispering, the child answered, "The search team just landed the
helicopter."
Alarmed, concerned and a little frustrated! the boss asked,
"What are they searching for?"
Still whispering, the young voice replied with a muffled giggle:














"ME!"

[EvilBastard]

Concerned that one of his most valuable employees hadn't shown up for work one day, the boss went over to his employee's house to enquire if there was anything wrong. The door was opened by the employee's 14-year old son in a dressing gown, his right arm around a semi-clad hooker, his left hand cradling a martini glass, and a huge doobie between his lips.
"Hello sonny," said the boss. "Is your dad at home?"
The youth replied, "Does it f@ckin' look like it?!"

[James Blast]

Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Mayo (IRELAND).

He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs. Below is an email
he sent to his sister.
She then sent it to RnaG (Irish radio station) in Galway, who was sponsoring
a worst job experience contest.

Needless to say, she won.

Hi Sue,

Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad
day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so
thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so
bad after all.

Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few
technicalities of my job. As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the
sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wet suit.

This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is
this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This £20,000 piece
of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful
temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which
is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've
used it several times with no complaints.

What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and
stuff it down the back of my wet suit. This floods my whole suit with warm
water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.

Everything was going well until all of sudden, my butt started to itch. So,
of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds
my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage
was done. In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had
sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit.

Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to
it. However, the crack of my ar$e was not as fortunate.

When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the
jellyfish into the crack of my ar$e. I informed the dive supervisor of my
dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact
that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically.

Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing
in-water decompression stops totalling thirty-five minutes before I could
reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression.

When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As
I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down
his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my ar$e as soon
as I got in the chamber.

The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my hole
was swollen shut.

So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it
would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your backside. Now repeat to
yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."