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Note: I work 10 minutes outside Toronto...
Bendy (on the phone): Hey John, are we on the West Coast or the East Coast?
SJ96:
Bendy:
SJ96: OMG, you're serious?
Bendy: Yes, c'mon, I'm on the phone...
SJ96: Oh, sorry, well, some people think Arizona is on the West Coast, but it's not. It's in the Western US, but not actually on the coast.
Bendy: You're not helping.
SJ96: We're on the West Coast.
Bendy (to the person on the phone): "We're on the West Coast."
SJ96: :teehee:
She's single, hot and (sometimes) stupid.Sure, she can be incredibly #####y, but I have a feeling she's been in a long dry spell, if you know what I mean.
awesome
Seriously. I avoid these Abbott and Costello exchanges every day by just not saying anything.
Here was one I found classic but there was no dialog. Basically we now have a casual day on Friday. Due to a client visiting we had casual day "canceled" and moved to next week. On our internal website (company wide) 180000+ there was a picture of one of our client teams with a congratulations for a new contract blah blah blah.Everyone in the picture was dressed in casual attire....
Nice image.
Man, I've hit a writer's block of some sort. I'll try. Dammit...I'll try.
I'll brainstorm as well.Man, I've hit a writer's block of some sort. I'll try. Dammit...I'll try.
Fictitious Presidential Quotes."Mr. Gorbachev, SMB, G!"I'll brainstorm as well.Man, I've hit a writer's block of some sort. I'll try. Dammit...I'll try.
Stealing paychecks, too?
No way.BoltThrower said:Well, Pam, that was a stirring rendition of the Warren Zevon classic "Ahhhh oooooohh, where rolls the thunder?"
how could I possibly make that up?No way.BoltThrower said:Well, Pam, that was a stirring rendition of the Warren Zevon classic "Ahhhh oooooohh, where rolls the thunder?"
THANKS FOR SHOWING UP EARLY!
She signed up for weekends too?
This #### is straight out of mean girls. You cant be serious.
Never saw the movie.Sadly, it is true.
DO you work with The Aristocrat?
First 80 degree Friday in MilwaukeeMe - Here2nd in command - vacation4 of 5 other personnel called in or no-call/no-show
No FFA Friday for me 
See you all in the drunk thread later.
You play cards at work. Cool.
Did you take your DeLorean back to post this today to warn you as to what will happen tomorrow? 1.21 Jiggawatts??!!?? 1.21 Jiggawatts??!!??Great ScottFirst 80 degree Friday in MilwaukeeMe - Here
2nd in command - vacation
4 of 5 other personnel called in or no-call/no-show
No FFA Friday for me
are you toward mississauga, scarborough or richmond hill?
Mississauga
:X
Dear Joseph,Quit smelling my balls like a German Shepard.DOWN BOY!SJ96
Dear Bathroom Play-by-Play/Color Commentator Guy -
When I took this job back in July, I was rather disturbed to learn that the one bathroom in the entire office was located exactly 15 feet from your desk. Throughout my life, I have enjoyed furtive facilities, lightly trafficked and undisturbed. At my last job, I would pass on the frenetic Men’s Room located adjacent to our office doors and opted instead to venture to the quiet 12th floor, where I could poop in utter solitude. Moreover, I consider taking a crap on the company dime my God given right and do my best reading while tucked away in locked isolation.
Furthermore, when our boss forewarned me that you would make my pooping life here at the office a humiliating experience, I was dumbfounded and didn't quite understand the admonishment. He chuckled and said "Just you wait..."
Unfortunately, I couldn't wait, thanks to a healthy heaping of black beans the night prior and thermos full of black coffee that morning. So I grabbed some reading material, went into the bathroom, locked the door and sat. I took a moment to admire the clean facilities, the wicker basket full of magazines and newspapers, the expensive artwork and all the candles. The bathroom even has a lovely shower attached. If ever there was a place designed to enjoy a daily dump, this is it.
And then it started. I let out muted warning shot before the cannon fodder hit the bowl. No sooner did that one note tune exit my body did I hear the cackling sounds of your high pitched laugh, follwed by a loud, obnoxious "WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA".
In the weeks and months since, I have been treated to rousing applause and several barked out, creative phrases like "Hey, we're trying to run a business out here" or "Oh my god, somebody has diarrhea" or my favorite "Dude, I'm on the phone!". It doesn't matter how hard I try to make as little noise as possible in there, it's as if you have a stethoscope to the door. You have taken what used to be an enjoyable workday past time and turned it into a traumatic experience. And I'm not alone. Everybody in the office is subject to your maniacal cat calls and turd analysis. What sucks is that when we try to flip the tables on you, you just laugh it off and feed on it. You come out of the bathroom holding up your arms like Rocky Balboa.
Not only do you yell and scream anytime you hear a fart, but you have been counting how many times each of us goes in there. If I go twice in a day, you say "Dude, what's wrong with you?" as if going twice in a day is abnormal. The day I went thrice, I thought you were going to call Ripley's. My poor boss installed a weather strip at the bottom of the door thinking that would help. Didn't work. Our poor analyst from India is so afraid of you that he drives to the grocery store to do his business. It's not funny. Also not funny is that you are a former body building champion who wakes up at 2am to work out every single day and could break me in half with your nostrils. Knock it the hell off. Let us poop in peace.
Sweet Kisses,
Poophobic
Had to bump this post again. Without a doubt the single funniest thing Iver ever read on the FFA. Laugh out loud, tear rolling from my eyes funny. This deserves its own thread.
Good stuffNative said:Dear Bathroom Play-by-Play/Color Commentator Guy -
When I took this job back in July, I was rather disturbed to learn that the one bathroom in the entire office was located exactly 15 feet from your desk. Throughout my life, I have enjoyed furtive facilities, lightly trafficked and undisturbed. At my last job, I would pass on the frenetic Men’s Room located adjacent to our office doors and opted instead to venture to the quiet 12th floor, where I could poop in utter solitude. Moreover, I consider taking a crap on the company dime my God given right and do my best reading while tucked away in locked isolation.
Furthermore, when our boss forewarned me that you would make my pooping life here at the office a humiliating experience, I was dumbfounded and didn't quite understand the admonishment. He chuckled and said "Just you wait..."
Unfortunately, I couldn't wait, thanks to a healthy heaping of black beans the night prior and thermos full of black coffee that morning. So I grabbed some reading material, went into the bathroom, locked the door and sat. I took a moment to admire the clean facilities, the wicker basket full of magazines and newspapers, the expensive artwork and all the candles. The bathroom even has a lovely shower attached. If ever there was a place designed to enjoy a daily dump, this is it.
And then it started. I let out muted warning shot before the cannon fodder hit the bowl. No sooner did that one note tune exit my body did I hear the cackling sounds of your high pitched laugh, follwed by a loud, obnoxious "WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA".For a moment, I thought a hyena had entered the building. Then I remembered our boss's warning and knew right away that you were a debase, deranged version of the SNL "Copy Man" played by Rob Schnieder.
In the weeks and months since, I have been treated to rousing applause and several barked out, creative phrases like "Hey, we're trying to run a business out here" or "Oh my god, somebody has diarrhea" or my favorite "Dude, I'm on the phone!". It doesn't matter how hard I try to make as little noise as possible in there, it's as if you have a stethoscope to the door. You have taken what used to be an enjoyable workday past time and turned it into a traumatic experience. And I'm not alone. Everybody in the office is subject to your maniacal cat calls and turd analysis. What sucks is that when we try to flip the tables on you, you just laugh it off and feed on it. You come out of the bathroom holding up your arms like Rocky Balboa.
Not only do you yell and scream anytime you hear a fart, but you have been counting how many times each of us goes in there. If I go twice in a day, you say "Dude, what's wrong with you?" as if going twice in a day is abnormal. The day I went thrice, I thought you were going to call Ripley's. My poor boss installed a weather strip at the bottom of the door thinking that would help. Didn't work. Our poor analyst from India is so afraid of you that he drives to the grocery store to do his business. It's not funny. Also not funny is that you are a former body building champion who wakes up at 2am to work out every single day and could break me in half with your nostrils. Knock it the hell off. Let us poop in peace.
Sweet Kisses,
Poophobic
How's life treatin' ya?
Maybe she meant on the lake 
