Eating Food Comic Strips - Page 8
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Boss: I ate three pounds of dark chocolate and it made my brain work better. Now I realize that everything I've done in my career up to this point has been magical thinking and fad-chasing. What should I do? Catbert: Stop eating chocolate.
Tina: Can I be your friend on Facebook? Dilbert: Friends are like speed bumps for engineers. Tina: How will you see pictures of my food? Dilbert: Do you eat food that Google doesn't know about?
Ratbert: When I die, I hope to go to Google. I would spend eternity with free food, bus service, and massages. Dogbert: And you would always be around smart, ambitious people. Ratbert: That's okay. I'll bring earplugs.
Dilbert: I invented a device that can help people lose weight. Boss: I wouldn't need that because I have willpower. Dilbert: Then why are you overweight? Boss: This is temporary. Dilbert: You've looked exactly the same for years. Boss: I can lose this weight any time I want. Dilbert: So... are you saying you choose to be less healthy than you could be? Boss: I'm saying I'd rather be happy than healthy. Dilbert: Are you happy? Boss: No, because I'm hungry. Dilbert: And eating will make you happy? Boss: Well, I usually eat until I'm sick.
Boss: How'd your business trip to Elbonia go? Dilbert: Not so good. I got food poisoning and spent two days in a fetal position praying for death. Boss: It must feel good to be back. Dilbert: It's closer to a tie than you'd think.
Dilbert: My co-workers make it impossible to work. I hear every one of their phone calls. It's maddening. When they walk past my cubicle it breaks my flow. And don't get me started about the food smells coming from the break room. They ask me one dumb question after another. I don't know who keeps turning up the thermostat. But it's too hot to think. The Boss: Would it help if I threaten to fire you? Dilbert: It's worth a try I'll be in my cubicle pretending to work.
Boss: I need to talk to you about your apple-eating. Dilbert: My what? Boss: Every afternoon you eat an apple at your desk. Your co-workers are complaining because it's loud. They can't work with all of your crispy chewing noise. Dilbert: In my defense, my co-workers are so incompetent that the less work they do, the better off the company is. Boss: That is a surprisingly robust defense. I'll come back if I can think of a counter-argument. Dilbert: Good luck. Crunch.
Woman: Let's play a game. We each say two things about ourselves and the other has to guess which one is a lie. Dilbert: I love to play games like that. My second thing is that I eat food.
Mom, the good news I wanted to tell you is that my boss named me project manager. Mom: Please keep that to yourself. I tell my friends you're a locksmith. Dilbert: You're paying for your own lunch. Waiter: I'm Ed. I'll be your project manager.
Boss: That restaurant was great. Dilbert: I know. I plan to go there someday for lunch. Boss: We just ate lunch. Dilbert: That wasn't lunch. Boss: It wasn't? Dilbert: You talked about work the entire time. Lunch is not defined by food. It's defined by freedom from tyranny. My lunch hour will begin the minute you waddle away. Was this going well until I said "waddle?"