Retirement
You did it! You’ve reached the [tasteful] end of your job! Now you can spend the rest of your life on a boat in Boca Raton with your neighbor, the insurance salesman from Cleveland who fronts the regional Minutemen project and charters fishing trips. Oh sure, the first time you land a Striped Marlin/a floating oil drum raft loaded with Cubans, you say, to yourself, “this is it, I did it. I’m ‘livin’ the dream’,” but something happens. Little things start to remind you what it was like being a productive member of society; a crying Cuban child reminds you of your weekly paycheck, a bucket of chum reminds you of your boss. Then you realize just how worthless you are. Now who’s going to re-spool bobbins in the textile factory? How will those Margaritaville t-shirts ever get made without you? You go back to beg for your job but some puissant kid named Bobby took over Mr. Giuseppe’s job and he thinks you’re a crazy, old derelict. Which you are.
Sick Leave
We get maybe a week off with pay a year in this country. Christ, what are we, horses? Do the doctors covered by my HMO carry a shotgun?
Taxes
Europeans don’t bitch about taxes even though the percentage of their paycheck goign to taxes is high enough to shit off the moon. Know why? Two reasons: 1, the biggest expense we as Americans pay on average, health care, is free to them. Two, they haven’t created a disproportionate wealth gap from the rich to the middle class through tax breaks. Argh, the rich! *shakes fist*. I may sound sarcastic here, but common. Poor people don’t write and pass tax reform laws. Rich assholes do. Do you really think they would pass something detrimental to themselves? Of course not. They have no morals. Hell, half of them like to travel to Africa and shoot elephants for fun, so the idea of them looking out for the little guy through trickle-down economics is the biggest scam since Ozymandias.(Sorry, I just saw Watchmen).
U R FUN-E LOL
People over 50 just discovered how fun the internet can be, so somehow, they have the exact same mentality as 9 year olds who also just discovered how fun the internet can be. Pff. N00bs. Casual e-mail jokes from co-workers are as cringe-worthy as hearing your parents say “crunk”.
Vacation
Saying how little you get in a year is becoming redundant, so I’ll just focus on where and when to spend your precious 2 weeks. You’ll want to go when everyone else goes. Try to convince them to take an extra week without telling your boss. I mean, he can’t fire you all, right?
Right?
As far as where is concerned, save up the money and go here. Ignore the fact that the site is totally web 1.0
Water Cooler
“Hey, did you see what happened last night on 24?”
Um, no I didn’t. I actually don’t watch too much tv. I’m always out after work with friends or-
“That’s strange. You’re strange. So how ‘bout that Obama, eh? Bailouts, man.”
Well-
“It’s pretty crazy.”
Yeah, it is. The-
“Only a…” [*looks around*] “nigger. Am I right?”
What?
“You know.”
No, I don’t know.
“Common, man. Niggers. They’re ruining this country.”
…
“Why, just the other day…”
Two hours later he walked into HR and I never saw him again.
aXidents
“If something goes wrong, blame the guy who can’t speak English. Ah, Tibor. How many times have you saved my butt?” – Homer Simpson
Your Company
Did you know that the company you work for is YOUR company? You own it! Just like how servants work for THEIR master, you work for YOUR company. This sense of ownership is liberating. That’s what’s so great about living in this day and age. People are now starting to own their foibles and faults. Take a lesson from the 600lb man. He owns his obesity. He goes on camera, well technically people push him in front of one, and goes, “That’s right, I’m a big fat asshole who’s gonna die in two years, but while I’m here I’m going to party my asses off. Suck my dick!” And so we should be with our companies. “That’s right, motherfuckers. I sold my soul to a corporation that makes child-sized land mines for a 6 figure salary. Suck my dick!” Always end with “Suck my dick”, or “Suck my clit!” if you’re a woman/hysterical.
Zesty Chicken
You can’t have regular chicken. No no. The last thing you want is something as bland as your work environment. You need to switch it up. Something fresh. Something exotic. But not too exotic. You want something with the moxy taste of Wishbone Italian dressing with the familiarity of chicken. Wait! Wait. What if…you put the dressing…on the chicken? Do I dare dream?! What an unholy union! Forbidden…yet alluring. Yes…yes! Ecstasy! I wonder what this would taste like on a bed of lettuce. My God! It’s a chicken salad, but zesty! ZESTY CHICKEN SALAD! In my heart rests a spark of the divine, burning forth the fires of creation! “Assistant, bring me a hamburger bun! I have an idea.” If this works then…I am! I AM A GENIUS! ZESTY CHICKEN SANDWICH! Every working man in this great land shall hail me as a GOD. No…just God. I…am…GOD!!!
-Inner monologue of the guy who invented zesty chicken, circa 1987
You did it! You’ve reached the [tasteful] end of your job! Now you can spend the rest of your life on a boat in Boca Raton with your neighbor, the insurance salesman from Cleveland who fronts the regional Minutemen project and charters fishing trips. Oh sure, the first time you land a Striped Marlin/a floating oil drum raft loaded with Cubans, you say, to yourself, “this is it, I did it. I’m ‘livin’ the dream’,” but something happens. Little things start to remind you what it was like being a productive member of society; a crying Cuban child reminds you of your weekly paycheck, a bucket of chum reminds you of your boss. Then you realize just how worthless you are. Now who’s going to re-spool bobbins in the textile factory? How will those Margaritaville t-shirts ever get made without you? You go back to beg for your job but some puissant kid named Bobby took over Mr. Giuseppe’s job and he thinks you’re a crazy, old derelict. Which you are.
Sick Leave
We get maybe a week off with pay a year in this country. Christ, what are we, horses? Do the doctors covered by my HMO carry a shotgun?
Taxes
Europeans don’t bitch about taxes even though the percentage of their paycheck goign to taxes is high enough to shit off the moon. Know why? Two reasons: 1, the biggest expense we as Americans pay on average, health care, is free to them. Two, they haven’t created a disproportionate wealth gap from the rich to the middle class through tax breaks. Argh, the rich! *shakes fist*. I may sound sarcastic here, but common. Poor people don’t write and pass tax reform laws. Rich assholes do. Do you really think they would pass something detrimental to themselves? Of course not. They have no morals. Hell, half of them like to travel to Africa and shoot elephants for fun, so the idea of them looking out for the little guy through trickle-down economics is the biggest scam since Ozymandias.(Sorry, I just saw Watchmen).
U R FUN-E LOL
People over 50 just discovered how fun the internet can be, so somehow, they have the exact same mentality as 9 year olds who also just discovered how fun the internet can be. Pff. N00bs. Casual e-mail jokes from co-workers are as cringe-worthy as hearing your parents say “crunk”.
Vacation
Saying how little you get in a year is becoming redundant, so I’ll just focus on where and when to spend your precious 2 weeks. You’ll want to go when everyone else goes. Try to convince them to take an extra week without telling your boss. I mean, he can’t fire you all, right?
Right?
As far as where is concerned, save up the money and go here. Ignore the fact that the site is totally web 1.0
Water Cooler
“Hey, did you see what happened last night on 24?”
Um, no I didn’t. I actually don’t watch too much tv. I’m always out after work with friends or-
“That’s strange. You’re strange. So how ‘bout that Obama, eh? Bailouts, man.”
Well-
“It’s pretty crazy.”
Yeah, it is. The-
“Only a…” [*looks around*] “nigger. Am I right?”
What?
“You know.”
No, I don’t know.
“Common, man. Niggers. They’re ruining this country.”
…
“Why, just the other day…”
Two hours later he walked into HR and I never saw him again.
aXidents
“If something goes wrong, blame the guy who can’t speak English. Ah, Tibor. How many times have you saved my butt?” – Homer Simpson
Your Company
Did you know that the company you work for is YOUR company? You own it! Just like how servants work for THEIR master, you work for YOUR company. This sense of ownership is liberating. That’s what’s so great about living in this day and age. People are now starting to own their foibles and faults. Take a lesson from the 600lb man. He owns his obesity. He goes on camera, well technically people push him in front of one, and goes, “That’s right, I’m a big fat asshole who’s gonna die in two years, but while I’m here I’m going to party my asses off. Suck my dick!” And so we should be with our companies. “That’s right, motherfuckers. I sold my soul to a corporation that makes child-sized land mines for a 6 figure salary. Suck my dick!” Always end with “Suck my dick”, or “Suck my clit!” if you’re a woman/hysterical.
Zesty Chicken
You can’t have regular chicken. No no. The last thing you want is something as bland as your work environment. You need to switch it up. Something fresh. Something exotic. But not too exotic. You want something with the moxy taste of Wishbone Italian dressing with the familiarity of chicken. Wait! Wait. What if…you put the dressing…on the chicken? Do I dare dream?! What an unholy union! Forbidden…yet alluring. Yes…yes! Ecstasy! I wonder what this would taste like on a bed of lettuce. My God! It’s a chicken salad, but zesty! ZESTY CHICKEN SALAD! In my heart rests a spark of the divine, burning forth the fires of creation! “Assistant, bring me a hamburger bun! I have an idea.” If this works then…I am! I AM A GENIUS! ZESTY CHICKEN SANDWICH! Every working man in this great land shall hail me as a GOD. No…just God. I…am…GOD!!!
-Inner monologue of the guy who invented zesty chicken, circa 1987
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