Monday, April 23, 2007
I Love My Job...
If you don't laugh out loud after you read this you are in a coma! This is even funnier when you realize it's real! Next time you have a bad day at work think of this guy. Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to radio station 103.2 on FM dial in 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 I 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 It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to 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 a 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 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 butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt. 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 totaling 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 butt as soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt 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 butt.Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job." |
Friday, April 20, 2007
Jobs
The Coolest Jobs Ever:
- The person who rolls out the red carpet for movie premiers.
- Gift wrapper in the mall at Christmas time – think of all the weird things people buy for other people.
- Cartoonist – to bad I’m not clever .
- Human Statistics – who wouldn’t want to find out all the strange things people do and then to find out that more than 3 people like to wear red and pink at the same time!
- Witness Relocation Story / Life Creator – being responsible for the background stories of other peoples’ “new” lives! How cool would that be!!
Worst Jobs I can think of:
- Photo technician – I wouldn’t want to find out how many people try to print hinky pictures.
- Potato Chip Quality Control – those people that stand on the conveyor belt and make sure that there aren’t any burnt potato chips going into the bag.
- Journalist on the Bottom of the Totem Poll For Stories – I don’t even want to think about the pathetic stories those people are responsible for. Like stories on two headed fish…J
- High School Math Teacher – How many kids actually want to be in Math 10?
- Actor on a low budget film – A) They hired you because you’re not good enough to act with Brad Pitt. B) They expect you to do your scene in 1 take because the budget got blown on the make-up instead of the film. C) No one will buy the movie therefore you won’t get any money, which means you’d probably end up working the job you got before that…sorting other people’s junk at Value Village.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
1. go to www.google.com
2. click on "maps"
3. click on "get directions"
4. type "
5. type "
6. click on "get directions"
7. scroll down to step #24
Monday, April 16, 2007
Friends
I love a good email. Especially when they come from your friends and they just happen to be all over the world. Janice (who’s last name also happens to be Wiens) is currently in
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Renting Sucks!
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
For you men, you may want to think twice about asking a woman what took them so long in the restroom.
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter.
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there were one, but there isn't - - so you carefully, but quickly, drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the EMPTY toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mom's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible; it is still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"OCCUPIED!" you scream, as you reach for the door dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether and slide down directly on the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has touched the seat. You made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain, her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At that point, you give up.
You are soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
Now, you can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it into the woman's hand and tell her warmly, “Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
Monday, April 9, 2007
Friday, April 6, 2007
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