Things That Are Wrong

Unless the requestor was Flano, then I would tell him where to shove his happy birthday

I’m literally in this place about 6 weeks. Our bosses boss has turned the big 6O. An email comes in from the yanks stating that they were staging a conference call to suprise the boss and were going to sing happy birthday down the phone.

The gunthers in the Galway office were requested to do like wise, so at 4pm today we all stood around a phone and sang happy birthday.

Wrong on so many levels, pure sitcom stuff.

I have a feeling i’ll be on this thread and the office jargon thread quite a bit.

That is sick

Those office birthdays are fucking torturous. The first office I worked in was a tiny little place and everytime it was someones birthday the hefty receptionist would arrive in with a cake and we’d all have to stand around for fifteen minutes drinking tea, eating cake and talking absolute horseshit small talk.

The boss would always say, without fail “Oh, that looks like a lovely cake, hefty receptionist” and she would always say “Oh I was up early this morning baking it, boss”.

The rest of us would have to feign laughing and then proceed to stand around like spare pricks.

I’ve just heard a sick but apparently very true story of a Chinese restaurant in Carlow lately. A guy was having a bit of grub there with a mate of his who happened to be a vet, anyway he was chomping away and then spat something out on the plate which he though was a tooth filling he was after losing. The vet friend asked to see it and on closer inspection noticed that it was a microchip. The vet took it back to his practice and scanned it. It turns out the microchip was that of a labrador dog that was reported missing in the town the week before. Sick bastards. :o :o :o

Ah that sounds like the story about dogs being used in the poeny court Chinese in Limerick

Ya but this story sounds better.

I heard that story about a chinese in Castlebar about a month ago. I’ve heard it three or four other times as well. Micro-chipped dogs must taste better or something.

At least the meat is tracable

:smiley:

The better quality meatier dogs would more then likely be of a better breed and more valuable and therefore micro chipped. On the off chance i’ve eaten crispy chilli dog at some stage I’d be very tempted to throw the spaniel in the wok. Much like chicken I reckon.

Eating dogs in Carlow? Sounds about right to me.

Does that not presuppose that they go around kidnapping dogs though, rather than just having some contact in a dog pound? Admittedly it’s more exciting to think that they pick out high profile targets and plan the abductions months in advance. It’s like something out of Oceans Eleven.

I fucking hate offices

You could coin a new phrase:

“That really threw a spaniel in the wok”

:clap: the dogs dinner.

http://www.thefreekick.com/board/index.php/topic/12419-predictable-posts-that-forumites-make/page__view__findpost__p__380737

G’way outta dat, you fooking loved the attention!

I used to love how the boss, after the 15 minutes of social time was up, would say ‘Well, I dont know about you guys, but I’m going back to work’. In other words, get back to work ye fooking scuts before I go off on one again. And the hefty one would still be there, and then moaning if someone dared ring the phone.

Actually met one of the women in the office in Wexford town there one night over Christmas.

Having hordes of Big 4 fooks buzzing around you all day, they’ve been in here for fooking ages, yesterday was the worst, had fucking 4 of them squatting at the free desks in the office here. Barrup Obama.

I had a few of these situations in my last job. In all the entire organisation consisted of about 15 people and about 8 of those were big wigs. Our area was in a different building, so I had fook all to do with those lads only on the phone or on email. Every now and again though we would get a token invite over to the main building as they were ‘celebrating’ some auld wan’s birthday. Fucking excruiatingly painful.

You have to say Happy Birthday to some auld wan that you have only met once, and you have no intention of meeting again. You stand around making small talk with big wigs who have fuck all to say only business related and lines like ‘I am going to be really bold and have another piece of cake’.

The call to go back to work was never more welcomed.