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Things that make you laugh...

I've still got nothing.

Then again, I'm just a simple American, and have no knowledge of anything outside of my home town.
 
They shifted offices around at work. Bastards.
It's to consolidate one group and make more room for another.

They moved people out of this tiny little office in a dark corner, up one floor, poorly ventilated and isolated. Weird place. They moved us in.
All my files and papers and toys were moved up there before i got to work. My computer didn't get moved until 1230. Then it didn't get assembled or put on the network until 1330. But then...
IT guy says there's no power to my cubicle. Okay. Contacted Building Facilities, told her what IT told me before he left.
She sends an electrician who shows up with a voltmeter, ready to track down my power problem. He goes into my new cubicle, comes out five minutes later, "Where are your plugs?"

Evidently, when the IT guy said 'No Power,' he didn't mean that my sockets were dead. They're missing. There's no plug in my cubicle.
Two of my coworkers start to look around. They have no sockets.

One does have power, though. But... His power is from a power strip. It's plugged into an extension cord. THAT snakes through a hole in the wall to the office that's around the corner, through another office, down a hall, past a coffee mess, into a storage closet and out into... An empty space with two power plugs.

Evidently 60% of the office was powered by extension cords snaked into inaccessible offices. And the people who left this office took the power cords with them...






Bastards!





So at 1400 they decide that they're going to have to install us some power sockets... Tomorrow. Not today.

So there's no chance of my being at all productive today.

"Okay, see you guys on Monday." I start to walk out.
I'm asked if i'm taking vacation time.
THere's a charge code for the time spent waiting for Facilities to fix or install my computer, or any other issue with building power, air conditioning, lighting, so on. I plan to charge that. Because I figure i can be just as productive on the drive home as sitting here staring at a blank screen.

That is, however, not supportable, I'm told. I can't charge work while i'm not at work.

Except
1) I'm not charging WORK, I'm charging the 'It's not my fault i'm not working' budget.
2) They have directly told me i'm not going to be able to work until tomorrow.

But the rule is adamant. I must be here to charge work.
Now, if i was allowed to remote in, i could 'not-be-able-to-work' by telecommute, but i'm not of the right pay grade to be trusted to not-work-at-all on my own.

So i have to sit there.

At work.

Not working.

I'm not being punished for working, but if i not-work from home, i'll have to spend vacation time.


Jesus H. Christ and all His Holy Paperclips. This is a scene from a corporate Catch 22.

So i stare at the screen for 5 minutes. And say, "At the sound of the fnork, I will have wasted five minutes of my life that no one will ever get back.....FNORK!"
After 15 minutes, and 3 FNORKs, I'm asked if i intend to make that sound for the next two and a half hours.

The two coworkers who do have power chorus: YES!

I was not given permission to leave AND charge time. But it was brought to mind that i'm traveling on Sunday. And that it would be possible to provide me compensatory time off NOW in anticipation of time spent at the airport THEN. And i could leave without having to charge vacation time.

It took me four and a half minutes to walk to the outer gate. Where i borrowed the phone to call a coworker and say, "FNORK!"
"Ass," he said and hung up.
 
Keith&Co. said:
They shifted offices around at work. Bastards.
It's to consolidate one group and make more room for another.

They moved people out of this tiny little office in a dark corner, up one floor, poorly ventilated and isolated. Weird place. They moved us in.
All my files and papers and toys were moved up there before i got to work. My computer didn't get moved until 1230. Then it didn't get assembled or put on the network until 1330. But then...
IT guy says there's no power to my cubicle. Okay. Contacted Building Facilities, told her what IT told me before he left.
She sends an electrician who shows up with a voltmeter, ready to track down my power problem. He goes into my new cubicle, comes out five minutes later, "Where are your plugs?"

Evidently, when the IT guy said 'No Power,' he didn't mean that my sockets were dead. They're missing. There's no plug in my cubicle.
Two of my coworkers start to look around. They have no sockets.

One does have power, though. But... His power is from a power strip. It's plugged into an extension cord. THAT snakes through a hole in the wall to the office that's around the corner, through another office, down a hall, past a coffee mess, into a storage closet and out into... An empty space with two power plugs.

Evidently 60% of the office was powered by extension cords snaked into inaccessible offices. And the people who left this office took the power cords with them...
Click to expand...

At my first job the fire inspector yapped about an extension cord. Not allowed. He had no problem with the power strips we all use to plug in the various parts of our systems, though. I don't know exactly what the code said.
 
'Let's be having you' is best known in the UK as a somewhat dated expression used by the police when they were arresting someone. It would be said at the time of placing them in the car, or handcuffing them - to mean, 'Ok, let's get on with this.' It became such a cliche and the butt of jokes that you'd be unlikely to hear a police officer say this anymore. Instead, it has worked its way into the BrE language as a phrase that anyone could say in a given situation. It still means 'Ok, let's get on with this.'
Click to expand...

It's a cliche so old that it barely registers on the Internet.

But anyone brought up in England knows that the cops say 'Let's be having you' when they arrest you.

Or at least, they did in 1960s police shows on TV.

That also say "'ello, 'ello, 'ello, what's all this 'ere then?".
 
I cannot believe that people believe this stuff:

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I was just reminded of an event from my mis-spent youth.

When I was in my early 20s, I was part of the English Civil War Society, who travelled all over England (and occasionally Scotland) reenacting the battles of the English Civil War.

My regiment acquired an ancient 7.5T British Leyland Redline truck, ex-British Rail, which was perfect for our needs; It had seating in the back for a dozen people (in comfort, with tables and everything), plus a big cargo area behind for all our gear - Tents, muskets, etc; It even had a boxed in section the length of the vehicle which could be used to carry pikes and polearms, and a segregated flammables box we could carry black powder in. But best of all, it was CHEAP. This was due to it being about thirty years old, and having been thrashed to death over every last one of the miles before and after the odometer rolled over.

So, as we expected, bits occasionally fell off, and needed to be replaced; But that was OK, because one of our members was an auto mechanic. So he got it through its MOT (roadworthiness test), and we got it registered and good to go.

Unknown to us (or the MOT test station), the alternator was on its last legs. And a few weeks after passing its MOT, it gave up the ghost, and stopped charging the battery. We were on a long trip from an event in the South West, back to our base in Yorkshire; and as night fell, Dave, our driver, turned on the headlights. But despite the headlight switch being in the 'on' position, no light came from the headlights. Indeed, all of the electrics had ceased to work - but being an old Leyland diesel, with no electric components other than the starter motor, the engine kept on going, and we were none the wiser.

So in deepening gloom, our light-less truck climbed slowly up the M62, with Dave managing to get no better than 50mph out of it with his foot flat to the floor. All of a sudden, blue flashing lights appear in the rear view mirror. Dave eases the truck over onto the hard shoulder, and waits. The cop climbs out of his patrol car, adjusts his cap, and walks up to the cab. He shines his torch in through the driver's window, to see Dave, wearing the uniform of a 17th Century infantry officer, complete with feather in his hat. Dave slowly winds down the window, and the cop looks him up and down, slowly, three times. And finally he says, "I've come as a policeman. What have you come as"?
 
Went out to lunch on my business trip last week, had Mexican with six other people from my company.
After the meal, which was great, we were in the parking lot as some of them smoked. One apologized for not going to a steak place.
I'm always in favor of steaks, but didn't understand the apology. The chimichanga i had was quite enjoyable.

She pointed to my tie, "Well, you're wearing your steak tie."

My tie was fossils. I got it from a Smithsonian gift shop. An array of dark brown fossils on a kind of cream background... i guess from some distance they look like cuts of meat. So then i've got five coworkers staring at my tie from a distance of 18 inches (Bob would not stop sucking on his cigarette long enough for a close look).
So, i bought the tie about the time i started working at this company, thinking it reflected my interest in and appreciation of science an history.
But i've been telling everyone, coworker and customer, for 13 years, that it was time to go eat us some beef.
 
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