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Wally: I need to take some bereavement time, with pay, because my cousin Ronnie died. Catbert: Cousins don't count unless you married one. Wally: We were domestic partners. What's the police on that, you bigot?
Dilbert: You asked for a breakdown of what I did this month. I wasted 25 percent of my time in useless meetings. I spent 33 percent of my time listening to co-workers complain about other co-workers. I used 11 percent to resend files I already sent. 14 percent went to dealing with a rumor you started by accident. 16 percent went toward working on the wrong things because you communicate poorly. Boss: What did you do with the 1 percent that was left? Dilbert: You just experienced it.
Asok: I want a job I can enjoy. Dilbert: You want to work for free? Asok: No, I just want to get paid for doing things I want to do. Dilbert: Perhaps you misunderstand the true nature of "work." The reason your employer pays you is because work is unpleasant by its very nature. If the job were fun, the company would charge you a fee for letting you do it. Boss: Asok, I need you to climb into the dumpster and find out what's making it smell so bad. Asok: At least I'm doing something useful. Boss: No, it's more of a curiosity situation.
Boss: We're getting into the electric car business. Dilbert: Why? Boss: Because it sounds impressive and it will take years for anyone to figure out we did it wrong. We'll have new jobs by then. Dilbert: Did you just turn my job into a criminal conspiracy?
Man: What's the best way to invest these days? Boss: Penny stocks are the best value because they only cost a penny. Dilbert: Gaaa!!! I hate over hearing bad advice! Boss: If I were you, I"d take out a second mortgage and load up. Dilbert; I don't want to get involved, but I'll feel bad if I don't. Boss: You'll get reliable stock-picking advice from strangers on television. Dilbert: Run! Cover your ears and run! If it makes you feel any less awkward, I don't now what to do now, either.
Boss: What's the worst-case scenario? Dilbert: A rogue nation could insert a cyberweapon on our software. The virus could destroy all technology on Earth. Lacking the means to communicate over great distances, single people would only be able to marry people who lived nearby. I could end up marrying your daughter. That would make you my father-in-law and my boss. That nightmare would cause me to denounce humankind and go live in a park, naked, with a family of squirrels. When winter came, I would be forced to strangle the squirrels, one by one, to make myself a coat. I can't tan leather, so that would be a senseless tragedy. Boss: Let's try to avoid that.
Dilbert: What's the URL for that site? Boss: I sent that to you last week. Dilbert: To which of my seven email addresses did you send it? Boss: Maybe I texted it to you. Dilbert: I have a bad feeling about this. Boss: Maybe I used Slack, or WhatsApp. Or I sent it to someone else.
Boss: We need to regain customer trust after our exploding phone fiasco. Dogbert: You need a celebrity endorsement. People trust celebrities with their life-and-death decisions. Maybe a famous cartoonist. Boss: I don't see how that could go wrong. Narrator: Continued...
You retweeted a racist conspiracy theory. I did? I checked snopes.com, and they say it is not true that Elbonians evolved from pandas less than a hundred years ago. You might want to delete the tweet. nah. What's the worst that can happen?