Why should you be fired from your job?
I spent three years "working" in the Ministry of Agriculture carefully crafting projectiles out of folded paper and drawing pins that I would then fire at colleagues with an elastic band. On discovering I'd been conducting all-out warfare when I should really have been in a field counting cows, I was asked to "reconsider my career options" outside the service.
Why, then, should you be fired from your job?
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 13:04)
I spent three years "working" in the Ministry of Agriculture carefully crafting projectiles out of folded paper and drawing pins that I would then fire at colleagues with an elastic band. On discovering I'd been conducting all-out warfare when I should really have been in a field counting cows, I was asked to "reconsider my career options" outside the service.
Why, then, should you be fired from your job?
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 13:04)
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Ambo’s firing offence.
Not so much me, but I was once witness to a firing offence. I was driving to work one morning a few years ago, and as I turned a corner I was greeted with the sight of a rather long row of cars, trucks and vans. Great! Traffic was bumper-to-bumper and crawling along somewhat slowly, so I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be a tad late for work. We crept along for about five minutes or so, until I finally saw the reason for the delay. Some poor guy had come off his motorbike and was laying flat on his back on the road being comforted by a couple of people, his leather jacket folded neatly under his head.
Traffic snaked by the scene cautiously, until the siren of an approaching ambulance was heard. Around the corner I saw it coming at what I considered to be significant speed, and it drove straight over the motorcyclist’s outstretched legs. The poor bastard sat bolt upright and let out the most blood-curdling scream, I was scarred for life. So much for professional standards!
( , Tue 14 Aug 2007, 23:49, Reply)
Not so much me, but I was once witness to a firing offence. I was driving to work one morning a few years ago, and as I turned a corner I was greeted with the sight of a rather long row of cars, trucks and vans. Great! Traffic was bumper-to-bumper and crawling along somewhat slowly, so I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be a tad late for work. We crept along for about five minutes or so, until I finally saw the reason for the delay. Some poor guy had come off his motorbike and was laying flat on his back on the road being comforted by a couple of people, his leather jacket folded neatly under his head.
Traffic snaked by the scene cautiously, until the siren of an approaching ambulance was heard. Around the corner I saw it coming at what I considered to be significant speed, and it drove straight over the motorcyclist’s outstretched legs. The poor bastard sat bolt upright and let out the most blood-curdling scream, I was scarred for life. So much for professional standards!
( , Tue 14 Aug 2007, 23:49, Reply)
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