Posted on 03/02/2005 11:21:15 AM PST by srm913
One of my co-workers is a saver. About 15 years ago, our insurance company used a new password each week to identify company representatives. About a year ago, my co-worker found a file with all the passwords. He showed it to all of us and we all agreed there was no reason to keep it, so he threw out the file.
We have a sales convention every year and a top management person would leave company-wide e-mails to update us on information for the convention. A couple of days after my co-worker threw out the file, I called a top manager who sends e-mails updating us on the annual sales convention and asked him to send a fake company-wide e-mail to my co-worker announcing that there would be a contest at the convention and the person who could recall the most company passwords from the old days would win.
My co-worker read the e-mail and came out of his office white as a sheet. We only let him suffer for a couple of hours before we told him the truth.
Ann Mikiska, Farmington
The president of the company where I used to work had a very efficient secretary. When she put a stack of letters on his desk to be signed he didn't read them, just signed each letter and sent them back to her. The office jokester slipped in a sheet with the president's resignation on it, and of course he signed it. The jokester had a good time with it and no harm came from it.
(Excerpt) Read more at startribune.com ...
Works with fish tails also.
Don't ask me how I know that....
;-)
For their honeymoon in 1964, my parents went to New Orleans.
For lunch one day, they decided to eat at the Court of Three Sisters, an extraordinarily swanky restaurant second only to the Commander's Palace.
Back in the day, the Sisters wouldn't allow any woman in pants to enter, so my mother took off her pants right there in the street outside the restaurant. Good thing she was wearing a slightly long shirt.
(Now y'all know where I get my chutzpah and my legs from.)
OMGosh...just a ton of material from that one neighbor...poor piglet. I am sure that while you were living next to this woman it was annoying....but what stories! What would we all do without people who "just aren't right" to entertain us.
After a long night of drinking, our fraternity brother, Tim, passed out on the couch. We rolled him off the couch and onto the coffee table, then we duct taped him to the table from his shoulders to his ankles.
Another friend of ours came home in the morning after working a night shift and heard somebody groan, "Get me down, please." as soon as he opened the door. He fell to the floor laughing as he saw Tim, propped upright by the door, still taped to the table, with an Army helmet on and a toy machine gun taped to his hand.
He was an able sentry, as no unauthorized personnel got by him that night.
Here is my best office prank:
http://www.freerepublic.com/forum/a3a5c79860616.htm
My son also worked with a guy who would steal the desserts from all the guy's lunches while they were out working in the heat.One guy's wife helped him to "cure" the problem by baking choc. chip cookies made with ExLax.They knew who was doing the stealing but could never catch him in the act. He brought the cookies, passed them out to everyone but the culprit, and sure enough the cookies were missing from several lunch boxes at noontime. Later that afternoon, in 90 degree heat, the cookies worked their magic. The guy dashed into the portapotty, spent an enormous amount of time in there. While he relieved his misery, they wrapped an entire roll of caution tape around the potty so he was stuck inside with his just desserts...so to speak. Their desserts were never missing again.
If you do that with black paper it uses up the toner and\or burns out the heating element :-)
I used to work with a guy who had 2 suits of the same style, but in different colors. He also commuted quite a distance to come into San Franciso. Our organization, at the time, was strict about dress code. Men had to wear suits, not sport jackets and slacks. One day, having dressed in the dark that morning, he arrived in the jacket from one of the suits and the slacks of the other. After everyone teased him unmercifully about his "sports outfit" he left early. The guy couldn't take it. He later became a manager, proving the old adage "if he/she isn't competent or in this case, able to take the heat, let's kick them upstairs."
OOOOH... I am SO doing that.
What does it do ?
One of my New Orleans favorites, although there are only two sisters. ;-)
ping for future use
I couldn't remember how many sisters there were - I thought it might be two, but couldn't ascertain from Google. Was it three once?
Turned his lips, tongue, and pretty much the entire inside of his mouth except his teeth a bright bluish purple for a couple of days.
From their website at http://www.courtofthetwosisters.com :
The two sisters, Emma and Bertha Camors, born 1858 and 1860 respectively, belonged to a proud and aristocratic Creole family. Their "rabais", or notions, outfitted many of the city's finest women with formal gowns, lace and perfumes imported from Paris. Marriage, reversals of fortune, widowhood - nothing could separate the sisters. Indeed, as the Picayune was to report, the sisters died within two months of each other in the winter of 1944. United in death as in life, the sisters lie side by side at St. Louis Cemetery #3.
Xena, my father grew up in Louisiana and attended Loyola in N.O. Until his death nine years ago, we would visit several times each year. He would drive through the French Quarter like he owned the place, speeding down those one way streets, taking short cuts, and dropping us off at the door of our destination. We had a blast! It's just not the same without him.
KKG!?
It is going to take more time to set this one up than it did to execute it, so bear with me. I sailed for two years aboard the USAV Page, a 338-foot freighter functionally similar to a Navy LST. The ship had two sets of throttle controls--one set on the bridge and one set in the engine room. During landing and departure, the engines would be controlled by seamen on the bridge responding to the commands of the captain. Once underway, the bridge would call the engine room to transfer throttle control below. A pneumatic switch would be thrown and the engine room throttles would then take over. With experienced people at both ends, the engines would deviate less than 50 rpm when the switch was thrown. Crews on the bridge and in the engine room took great pride in their ability to make that transition smooth, whether the control was going from the engine room to the bridge or from the bridge to the engine room. One day about sunset, the question arose in my mind "What would happen if throttle control was passed to the bridge and they weren't expecting it?" We were offshore near Hon Tre Island, en route to Vung Ro Bay. A check of the horizon showed no traffic in sight. I snuck into the machine shop, picked up the phone and rang the engine room. When they answered, I gave the command "Throttle control to the bridge." They immediately complied. Up on the bridge, their throttles were set to idle, so when the engine room threw the switch, the engines slowed to their idle speed. That triggered the engine alarm sirens which require a crewman to run to the panel to throw the override switch. By then the ship was bobbing like a cork on the ocean swells. The officer of the deck is on the phone shouting to the engine room officer of the watch "What's going on down there?" He replies "Whaddya mean, what's going on down there? You guys called for throttle control to the bridge, so we gave it to you." "I did no such thing, Vencill" the officer of the deck said. "OK, we'll take 'em back." So the engine room restored cruise power to the two 1,200 horsepower diesel engines and the voyage continued as before. They never did find out who gave the command...
Friend replaced the boss's laptop with an etch-a-sketch at a customer meeting. Priceless. Customer had a good laugh, too!
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