Solve Small Problems Comic Strips - Page 31
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Boss: Don't bring me problems. Bring me solutions! Dilbert: That would make you more useless than you already are. Boss: I also need you to fill out your own performance evaluation.
Dilbert: Do you have plans for the weekend? Asok: No, I"m an introvert. I'll probably experience despair and loneliness while being jealous of people who have substance abuse problems. Dilbert: Yeah, me too. Asok: This conversation is dragging on too long.
Dogbert: I've notice that you go to work every day and yet the world is still a boiling cesspool of terribleness. It's as if you're not even trying. Dilbert: I gotta go. I'm late for doing nothing useful. Dogbert: I'm already forgetting your name.
Dogbert: I'm starting a new business selling clothes to ghosts. My garments are made of the finest ectoplasm. Dilbert: Ghosts don't have money. Dogbert: They don't need money. I'm using a life insurance business model. If you pay me until you die, I will keep your ghost well-dressed for eternity. I also offer reincarnation services. Leave all of your stuff to me when you die and I'll give it back to you when I find the baby that got your soul. Dilbert: You'll be in trouble if your customers realize you're running a scam. Dogbert: If dead people start complaining, we've both got bigger problems than my scams.
Dilbert: I tried to get approval from the head of Marketing, but the reorg makes it impossible. The outgoing director says I need to ask the incoming directory, but that person hasn't been named. Boss: Bring me solutions, not problems. Dilbert: Forgery it is.
Dilbert: I invented an artificial soul to help non-believers act morally. It's a small drone that follows you around and reminds you not to be a jerk. Wally: Did it forget to remind you today? Dilbert: My drone says I shouldn't slap you.
Dilbert: Our new politeness policy is having unintended consequences. I just spent four hours listening to Tina talk about hear health problems because the company says it is rude to just walk away. Wally: How did you escape? Dilbert: She had a health problem. I got lucky.
Boss: How's work? Dilbert: Well, since you asked... it's like being trapped in a garbage compactor and no one can hear me scream. All my hopes and dreams have died, along with my immune system and my dignity. The only thing keeping me alive is that food tastes good. I tried to escape into my imagination, but I learned I don't have one. My life has no meaning. Each second is a slow-motion ordeal. Why do I get the feeling you weren't listening to any of that? Boss:My day was good too.