Saw this a few months ago and it still makes me cry-laugh.
I think part of the reason I find it so hysterical is I have met people here with unusual surnames- names so bad I don’t know how they survived school.
I have no clue how John Oliver held himself together for this.
Stuart just shared this with me. Rainbow was a children’s program here in the 70’s and the team did a few things now and then to amuse themselves.
There’s an important facilitation that is being done for all of the teams. Our coordinator sent an e-mail to the Paris office asking questions about the room and equipment.
To the Paris Conference Center,
We have the room booked on the Xth of JuneXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. The audience in Internal. I sent an email earlier in the week with no reply…please let me know if there is someone else I should contact?
We would like to confirm with you the following:
• Projector & Screen (AV)
• Flip Chart in the room (pens)
• Speaker availability - Do you have speakers available for sound?
• Room Flexibility? - Can we have it set up as U-Shaped or Classroom Style? Is there a room coordinator who helps with the room set-up?Your help is much appreciated. XXX is our contact in France for this course.
Kindest regards,
XXX
The first sentence of the reply back had me laughing so hard I was crying.
Hello XXX,
Unfortunately we aren’t concerned by your request.
A fart in our general direction indeed.
Brilliant Facebook satire. Dunka mucho much to Mel for posting it.
Long-time readers may recall how I was winding myself up over the potential open questions that I might be asked in the interview for my current gig.
A common thing for those of us that work for my employer is to commiserate over how you are certain you are that you fucked up the big final interview with the headcheese.
Something I didn’t blog about, that has been one of my pub anecdotes – so I ought to share it here. . . gather close children. . .
Day Two of the interviews at my current employer. Was one of those, people are going to die, who are you going to save????? situational wank-fests. . . I was defending one of my choices, when Mel said. “Well. It’s come to light that Sir Blahblahwhositwhatistlookupherskirtandshagheroverthesofa actually made all of his money. . . through porn. . .
The room froze.
I looked up, “What’s wrong with porn?”
Everyone sputter-laughed
I’m fairly certain that’s why I got the job. . .
“I was in analysis. I was suicidal as a matter of fact and would have killed myself, but I was in analysis with a strict Freudian, and, if you kill yourself, they make you pay for the sessions you miss.” –Annie Hall
In an attempt to de-crazy myself, and because I’ve often thought it might be interesting although a bit solipsistic– I’ve started seeing a shrink in the office.
Today was the first appointment.
When I was talking to her about my background, I almost started laughing because it sounded like a Jerry Springer Christmas special. It actually popped in my head that she is going to think I’m making all of this shit up.
I’m minding my own business, wading through my e-mail, thinking about where I want to go for lunch even though it’s only 10:30. Take a swig of coffee and look at the IM that Al just sent me:
AL: just so you know, I’ve just discovered that abortion jokes don’t go down too well.
I nearly spewed. And then I laughed.
