and when we're all herded into the conference area and are forced to sing, he whips out a conductor's baton and "conducts" us.
AUGH. Death death death.
'Unleashed'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
and when we're all herded into the conference area and are forced to sing, he whips out a conductor's baton and "conducts" us.
AUGH. Death death death.
Aw, jeez, MM. Where do they find these idiots? I'm both glad and sorry that they're not all in Social Services tormenting me.(except the Social Security people, who must think we gimps miss out on the DMV ambience.)
One of them, in fact, has dubbed himself the "bandleader," and when we're all herded into the conference area and are forced to sing, he whips out a conductor's baton and "conducts" us.
"Sorry to see you here in the ER, Mr. BandleaderFuckcake. What seems to be the problem?"
"A coworker shoved a conductor's baton up my ass."
We've secretly replaced Mr Fuckcake's baton with a gaboon viper. Let's see if he notices.
and when we're all herded into the conference area and are forced to sing, he whips out a conductor's baton and "conducts" us.
AUGH. Death death death.
Seriously. And when I see my co-workers laughing and clapping while he "conducts," I begin to wonder if they are, in fact, mentally deficient. Like, actually clinically so.
One of them, in fact, has dubbed himself the "bandleader," and when we're all herded into the conference area and are forced to sing, he whips out a conductor's baton and "conducts" us.
"Sorry to see you here in the ER, Mr. BandleaderFuckcake. What seems to be the problem?"
"A coworker shoved a conductor's baton up my ass."
Oh, would that I could!
I think I love my workplace right now. Someone brought in a homemade chocolate peanut butter cake today. She put it in the staff room and sent out an email that said, "help yourself!"
And when I see my co-workers laughing and clapping while he "conducts," I begin to wonder if they are, in fact, mentally deficient.
"Mr. Fry, your 2:00 magician is here."
"Believe it or not, I have more important things to do today than laugh and clap my hands. .... Reschedule."
Someone brought in a homemade chocolate peanut butter cake today. She put it in the staff room and sent out an email that said, "help yourself!"
We do that, too. (We eat a LOT around here.) But in addition to the no-strings-attached free food, we also have the forced-conviviality events 3 times a month.
Ptui.
Scola, it took you WAY longer than I expected!