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Dilbert: Can I work at home for two days per week? I can be twice as productive, and happier at the same time. Boss: I probably shouldn't tell you this... but you're part of an elaborate science experiment to see how much frustrations it takes to kill employees. Why else would the company make you commute for two hours a day just to sit in a tiny box? Don't feel bad: no one told me either. I had to piece it together from the evidence. Now I do my part to keep the experiment moving along. Dilbert: Other people work from home. Boss: Are you referring to the control group?
Noise: Ring. Dilbert: Uh-oh. It's never good when my phone rings after 4 pm. Caller ID is blocked. Someone must know that I would ignore the call if I knew who it was. If it weren't urgent, it would be email. This must be some sort of horrible issue that will cause me to work all night. It stopped. There's still a chance that I'll be okay unless my cell phone... Noise: Bzzzz. Dilbert: GAAAA!! I hate my life! Alice: You're right. That was funny. Wally: Now I'll text him.
Boss: Dogbert is chairing the international data security standards group. Dogbert: The goal of our organizations is to make your security procedures so inconvenient that you give up hope and die from bed sores. We take pride in being independent from the companies that fund us.
Standards Meeting. Dogbert: Each of you has been chosen to represent the interests of your respective companies. As you know, the best way to create standards is to mash together a bunch of mutually exclusive preferences. I hope I'm not the only one who joined this group just for the laughs.
Asok: Are you getting a lot done on the grandpa box? Dilbert: The what? Asok: The people in my generation do our work on our phones and tablets. Dilbert: I also have a laptop. Asok: I'll text the nineties and let them know.
Man: Everything you said is right, but I have a reflexive urge to disagree with you. If you don't mind, I'm going to make a ridiculous counterpoint just to get it out of my system. Dilbert: Okay, but don't be creepy about it. Man: Software can't be changed. Ahhhh... that's good.
Boss: Pete, I'm getting complaints that everything you say is creepy. Man: You seem tense. I should give you the number of my massage therapist, "Rubbin, Robin." Boss: You're doing it again. Man: I don't have an address because he works out of a rusty van.
Dogbert: Welcome to the monthly meeting of "The Society for the Preservation of Evil Ideas." Our goal for the coming year is to convince companies to file absurdly broad patents and sue each other for infringing. CIO: How do we make money from that? Dogbert: Beats me. I'm just here to embezzle your dues.
Boss: We need to communicate less with other departments. The more they know about us, the more they criticize what we do. Dilbert: Is this part of your larger war on knowledge? Boss: That was the last thing I'll ever tell you.
Dilbert: We're out of time and we accomplished absolutely nothing, thanks to your non-stop talking. Coworker: When do I get my trophy for participating? Dilbert: Someone was raised with too much self-esteem. Coworker: Watch me walk!