If you work in an office, you’ve probably seen more than a few passive-aggressive signs. If you’re lucky, though, the sign-makers are funny and creative.
Jesus is cool and all, but not so chill when you steal soda.
Image found on Technologies Nouvelles.
It wasn’t me; I don’t even eat ketchup. (And yes, newsrooms do smell like day-old ketchup sometimes.)
Image found on Uplifting Daily.
Aha! A technicality … brava!
Image found on BuzzFeed.
If anyone is able to actually do that killer robot thing, give me a call …
Image found on Pinterest.
Pretty much me when my blood sugar dives …
Image found on BuzzFeed.
Don’t mess with Milton’s stapler!
Image found on Write2Think.
And speaking of staplers, here’s what happened in my office last week (sorry the pictures aren’t better; only had my cell with me):
Presenting … the Museum of Staplers (not sponsored by Swingline).
Yep, a Museum of Staplers. Apparently people are always walking off with Nikki’s stapler, so late in the week, she and the clerks created the temporary museum exhibit at the supply desk.
The invitation to the museum opening.
Two of the staplers on display. I’d heed the advice of the one on the right (promising certain death) if I were you; Nikki’s hilarious, but she will cut you!
Some more of the staplers. That big one will make you bleed if you’re not careful. Possibly from your head after someone’s beaned you with it.
That was all well and good, but Friday, someone took it over the top by introducing Nikki’s “artist’s statement” (Thanks, Shea!).
The statement:
OK, so maybe some of us do have to much time on our hands …
“I believe the stapler showcases the triumph of humanity in the 18th century. Before the stapler, there was oneness everywhere. After the devious simplicity of a stapler, there is twoness, threeness, fourness … even 24-ness—although some staplers struggle punching through 24 of more pages.
“The reductive quality of the negative space between the stapler’s hammer and its crimper brings within the realm of discourse the eloquence of humanity’s need for togetherness. And the sublime beauty of a stapler’s lines codified the accessibility of the work.”
Betcha never knew there was so much beauty in a stapler … just make sure you return it if you borrow it.
Serenity is a fuzzy belly 
So a guy comes to the office on Saturday morning, hoping to catch up some work. He sees his BIG boss with a handful of papers, standing at the shredder, and looking puzzled.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yeah, how does this damn thing work?”
“Oh here, let me do it for you.” With that he began feeding the papers into the shredder. Just as he was finishing, his boss says,
“Better make ten copies. That’s the original.”
(Now if they had been stapled . . .)
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😀
Luckily we don’t have anyone like that in the newsroom … of course, we also have a locked receptacle for things to be shredded. 😉
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If it were a Microsoft (or Apple) shredder, you would need to Agree to a 30-page explanation that the shredded papers could not be reassembled, even by the FBI.
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Better be a clause for kids, since they seem to be able to solve/get into anything they’re no supposed to. 😉
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Ah, such fond memories of intraoffice warfare. Reminds me how glad I am to be retired.
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I so want to put one of those Jesuses in the newsroom fridge 😉
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Could have used one in my office, too.
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Speaking as someone who has been working as a unit secretary/clerk.coordinator in a hospital for nineteen years, the nurses and the doctors frequently borrow one of the two staplers I keep at my desk. Sometimes, on rare occasions, they actually return the stapler they have borrowed.
And I don’t like or eat ketchup either.
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Before I had my own office at the paper, my staplers were always disappearing, but I don’t think I ever got as exercised about it as Nikki does at times. She makes visiting the graphics department a hoot!
My IBS is a great excuse for when people try to foist ketchup on me (the acid is bad for IBS), but I do miss tomato sauces (marinara, bolognese, etc.). I eat what few french fries I consume either dry or with a little ranch dressing. So much better …
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