Funny Pics II: The Revenge

[Starlord]

17 hours ago, Cygnia said:

 

Very 80s....so played by a young Bruce Boxleitner and Phoebe Cates

 

[L. Marcus]

Oh, there came the nostalgia. Bruce Boxleitner and James Arness in How The West Was Won. Very popular show 'round these parts.

[Cygnia]

[archer]

https://ffn.nodwick.com/?p=1983

[Logan D. Hurricanes]

[Cancer]

Time flies are the parasites that consume that substance measured by chronometers, you know.  Daleks may travel the time-stream exterminating all life, but time flies devour the time-stream itself.

[Cygnia]

I prefer "clock roaches"

[Cancer]

Roaches have chewing mouthparts; flies have sucking mouthparts.  Which is more disturbing in the final analysis varies between individuals.

[Duke Bushido]

1 hour ago, Cancer said:

 time flies devour the time-stream itself.

 

 

Well, yes; but only the parts I'm done with, so we're good.  

 

[Lord Liaden]

Nah, that's what Langoliers are for.

[Cygnia]

[Cygnia]

[Cygnia]

[Cygnia]

[Logan D. Hurricanes]

[Cygnia]

[Pariah]

3. Booze

[Duke Bushido]

2 hours ago, Logan.1179 said:

 

 

That is the most horrifying whack-a-mole I have ever seen..... 

[Cygnia]

[Logan D. Hurricanes]

[Duke Bushido]

[slikmar]

How exactly did you end up there Duke?

[Cancer]

... this time?

[Cygnia]

[Duke Bushido]

33 minutes ago, slikmar said:

How exactly did you end up there Duke?

 

 

Well I was going to ask "which time?", but Cancer beat me to the punch with this rimshot-worthy entry:

 

32 minutes ago, Cancer said:

... this time?

 

 

So let me start the story of how I became the most hated man in Lakeland, Florida.

 

First, the disclaimer:  No!  I am not from Florida.  I may be a filthy heathen toothless, odious, knuckle-dragging swamp scoggin, but I am _not_ a Floridian (thank you, God.)!

 

I don't even go to Florida (or Atlanta, for that matter) if I can help it, because I don't like to leave the South.

 

 

You know what?  Outside my workplace, it's not that interesting a story.  I'm also rapidly running out of time, so let me tell you about the most hilarious e-mail I have ever received (also work-related).

 

For fourteen months, I have been fighting shipping issues from one particular supplier (a nameless company of nepotism and thumb-filled anuses who shall not be identified).  The thing that has really been killing me is that it is the _same_ problems, twice a week.  And even when told specifically "do x and the problem will go away," I get met with nothing but almost-commital "hunh." every time I speak with someone about this issue.  Better still?  There was a six-week period where they actually _tried_ the two suggestions I made, and in that time, there was _zero_ damage (missing items was still a serious issue)!  Zero!  So of course, they stopped doing it and went back to ensuring that at least 30 grand worth of every shipment was unusable.  Morons!

 

Last week, I totally lost my shitake with these nimrods, and broke pretty much every communication and discussion rule of polite society and my own company.  Over the next few days, I was getting phone calls and e-mails from people I'd never even _heard_ of!  "I'm Jeff Jeffson, Vice-President of placing thumbs in anuses!  What can I do to address these problems?"   "I'm Luther Andluther, executive in charge of not getting sued.  Tell me about the troubles you're having!"  

 

But the one that took the cake showed up yesterday afternoon:

 

I'm Theguy Wholoadzyertrux, and I want you to know that I have been doing this job for nearly eight years.  The next three paragraphs will demonstrate clearly that English, the language of both of my parents, is a strange and abstract concept with which I have only begun to wrestle.  The gist of this is that I am a dedicated professional loader of trucks, and not only do I take a great deal of pride in my work and it's quality, but I also take my job very seriously!  There is no one who takes more care and more pride in their work than do I, and I go so far as to check myself and my work through the following four methods to ensure that my work is absolutely perfect!  Let's assume I have already listed those four checks, because the current audience doesn't really care about that.  In fact, I take my job so seriously that I have taken the time to send pictures of your load for tomorrow, on the truck and secured for transport.  Fourteen of them!  Please note that your material is stacked and organized better than it ever has been in any truck that you have ever received in the past, just as I always do it.  Try to ignore the fact that the truck in the picture is half-empty and that I have yet to jam in orders for two other companies that I am pretty sure will almost fit pressed tightly against your material, just as you would ignore that the truck this material is pictured on also not the truck that runs the route your company is on.

 

So I would like to close saying that you have seen proof that I-- myself--  load your truck personally, and that I am a serious professional, who cares about the quality of his work and who checks his work four different ways to ensure that it is completely perfect.  Also, as I am typing this e-mail to you, I see that there is some material that someone has left off your truck.

 

Sincerely, Theguy Wholoadzertrux.

 

 

[some paraphrasing has occurred.  Names may have been changed-- ed]

 

 

 

And then HE SENT IT!               HE SENT IT!  Holy crap, he _actually_ SENT IT!    

 

Would you?  Would _any_ of you?!  

 

If it had been me, I'd have seen the missing material and thought   "Delete?  Save as draft?  Can't send that.  I should save that self-righteous rant for the day I finally _don't_ make a shockingly-expensive mistake."

 

But _NOoooOOOooo_!  Not "Theguy!"  No, Sir!

 

 

I forwarded it to the guy who keeps a lose eye on me:

 

"You, uh...  You _really_ want to reply to this, don't you?"

 

Oh _yes_!  Yes-yes-yes-yes! I _really_ do, so very, _very_ much.....!

 

"You know what?  I think you should.  Go ahead!"

 

"Are you _sure_ about that?  I _guarantee_ I'm going to break company communications policy....."

 

Yeah.  They sent me that last eye-splitting thing you sent them.

 

"So it's okay....?"

 

"By all means.  I've had enough of this crap, too."

 

DONE!

 

 

Mr. Wholoadzyertrux:

 

Thank you for taking the time to reassure me that my material may, for the first time ever, arrive here completely undamaged.  Well, undamaged, anyway, because you have also forewarned me that it will not be complete.

 

Mr. Wholoadzertrux:

 

I trust you are aware that we get an advanced copy of what is _supposed_ to be on the truck.  Two of them actually, so that when we figure out what's wrong this time, we can make changes on both copies, and send one back with your driver for billing correction.  I have just compared the list of material that you left off the truck this time (and thank you: we've never had an advanced copy of your F-ups before; this is an exciting change) that you discovered, and I appreciate that you took the time to list this missing material instead of moving on to something else- like maybe GETTING OFF YOUR ASS AND PUTTING THAT MATERIAL ON THE TRUCK!

 

I also appreciate that while you "personally loaded the truck" and "personally quadruple checked the truck," that material caused an interesting switch from first person to ablative, because that material "was left off."  Some other guy left it off while you were loading and checking it, I'm sure.  I strongly suggest you audit your load-checking methodologies, as I couldn't help but notice that the six items you listed are THE FIRST SIX THINGS ON YOUR LOADING LIST!  THE VERY FIRST THINGS!  They weren't obscurely buried in microfontic type somewhere; they were bulleted, plainly, in extremely large, bold print, black-on-chrome yellow (a color combination that, I'd like to point out, was selected by the DOT for road warning signs as test after test found this to be the absolute most visible, most easy-to-read combination in existence anywhere on this planet).  It's like a grocery list with part numbers, and that was right there, in the space usually reserved for things like "Whatever you, Baby, please don't forget we are completely out of toilet paper!"  That critical area of your list seems to not get quadruple-checked.  Perhaps a quintupling would help with that.

 

Again, I appreciate you taking the time to contact me, provide me with pictures, reassure me, and remind me how important this work is to you.    However-- and I don't say this to discourage similar discourse in the future, I am remarkably busy after about ten AM, and I would appreciate a more concise summation of the topic in any e-mail.  For instance, you could have made every point simply by stating "I am the guy who personally loads your truck, and I just wanted to send you undeniable proof that I am a complete moron."

 

 

Thank you for your time.

 

Duke Oliver

The Place I Work

 

 

 

 

Sure, that sounds like a lot of rage and frustration being vented, but that's mostly because it was.  I'm serious, folks: twice a week we go through this.  It has gotten so bad that we now only buy from them once a week, and have moved half our needs to a vendor who, sadly, as-yet cannot meet our weekly needs.  We're looking into a third vendor to cover the rest.

 

But that's not all!  

 

Oh, no!  It gets so much _better_!

 

Our material arrived today, and I opted to unload and inspect it-- you know, personally, professionally, pridefully-- all that stuff.  I mean, Theguy went out of his way to do it for me, right?  He deserves no less!

 

The material-- for the first time _ever_, I'd like to add, was completely undamaged.  I mean complete, perfectly undamaged.  Granted, it was also loaded and secured with a care and skill never before demonstrated by any member of this company-- you know:  normally, like the way a ten-year-old kid might do it.  :/

 

I was astounded!  I really didn't think they could load the material without _somehow_ having to smash something!

 

Then I noticed the truck itself.  Not the trailer; no....   The one-hundred-and-eighty-six-thousand dollar new truck with the double-berth sleeper and separate diesel generator.  Once side nicely caved in.   I called to the driver (who was regaling me with stories of just how hated I have managed to become "back home")  "Dude!  What happened to your brand new truck?!"

 

Oh, that dumbass Wholadzyertrux F'n smashed it with the forklift trying to finagle your crap into it without bashing it around the way he usually does.

 

 

    Okay, not funny.  Dude's a great guy, a family man, and works his butt off to get ahead.  All-business, and I respect him a great deal.   I was amused not about the damage to his truck, but about having been proven right!  It's like some kind of voodoo ritual!   They _must_ smash something in order to get the material onto the truck.  If it's not the material, then something else must be sacrificed.....

 

 

 

 

 

I gotta go.   

 

 

I meant to be gone already.

 

 

Y'all have fun.