top to things

Top 10 Drawbacks to Working in a Cubicle
10. Being told to 'Think outside the Box' when you're in a box all day long.

9. Not being able to check e-mail attachments without turning around to see who's behind you.

8. Fabric cubicle walls do not offer much protection from any kind of gunfire.

7. Always having that nagging feeling that if you press the right button, you'll get a piece of cheese!

6. Lack of roof rafters for the noose.

5. The walls are too close together for the hammock to work right.

4. There are 23 power cords but only ONE outlet.

3. Prison cells are not only bigger... they also have beds.

2. When tours come through, you get lots of peanuts thrown at you.

1. You can't slam the door when you quit and walk out. (I have a piece of cardboard with a knob drawn on it. I slam that quite often. Not the same effect as wood, though).



Fast Drinker
A guy goes into a bar, orders twelve soda's and starts drinking them as fast as he can. T

he bartender says, "Dang, why are you drinking so fast?"

The guy says, "You would be drinking fast if you had what I had."

The bartender says, "What do you have?"

The guy says, "75 cents."


Named Drink
A grasshopper goes to a bar and hops up on a stool.

The bartender is surprised to see a grasshopper and says "Say, you know we have a drink named after you?"

The grasshopper responds "You have a drink named Roger?"



A Writer's Allowed to Choose
A writer died, and due to a bureaucratic snafu in the hereafter, she was to be allowed to choose her own fate: heaven or hell for all eternity. Being very shrewd for a dead person, she asked St. Peter for a tour of both.

The first stop was hell, where she saw rows and rows of writers sitting chained to desks, in a room as hot as a thousand suns. Fire licked the writers' fingers as they tried to work; demons whipped their backs with chains. Your typical hell scene.

"Wow, this is awful," said the writer., appalled "Let's see some heaven."

In a moment, they were whisked to heaven and the writer saw rows and rows of writers chained to desks, in a room as hot as a thousand suns. Fire licked the writers' fingers as they tried to work; demons whipped their backs with chains. It looked and smelled even worse than hell.

"What gives, Pete?" the writer asked. "This is worse than hell!"

"Yes," St. Peter replied, "but here your work gets published."