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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ICQX46cCp7ImA9WhRVFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344</id><updated>2012-01-15T07:52:40.018-06:00</updated><title>Office Pranks, Office Humor, and Office Stories - One Crazy Office</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>99</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/onecrazyoffice" /><feedburner:info uri="onecrazyoffice" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8CQXk5fSp7ImA9Wx9VFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-6930198631776012640</id><published>2011-01-31T01:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T01:11:00.725-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-31T01:11:00.725-06:00</app:edited><title>Getting Moved to Days</title><content type="html">When most people get moved up at the place they work it is because they deserved it or something like that. Well when I got moved to days it was to separate me and my coworker friend. Since we always got in trouble. Supposedly they wanted to see who was feeding off of who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     They were thinking since we were not together anymore then one would fail and the other one would be fine. Everyone always thought that I was the following so that I would fail. Well they were right about one thing. Someone did fail, but it wasn't me. Not even a month a later he was fired, because he was never on time and sometimes he didn't show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      But now I faced new challenges. I was around when everybody else was. That meant I couldn't do anything fun anymore. I had to actually do my job. Or so I thought. I still found ways to get in trouble. A lot of times though I got in trouble for things I didn't do. So in turn I would do something else. If I am getting in trouble then I might as well do what I am getting chewed out for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I had to be around Sgt. Retodd ALL DAY LONG NOW. So if you think that I didn't like him before then you can imagine how much we became friends now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Some good things came out of it though. I could now carpool with my girlfriend since we had the same hours. She is not a guard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     So all in all it was the best thing for me. I did drop out of college though because of two reasons. Actually three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     One I thought that I had arrived and I didn't need school anymore, which was very stupid.&lt;br /&gt;     Two I didn't have time anymore since I was at work during the days and could be around my girlfriend at night now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Three I had a kid on the way so all my money was going to go to him now and I wouldn't have the time that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-6930198631776012640?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3GunjrDPCYCeWC2K9_ilaV4dYOE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3GunjrDPCYCeWC2K9_ilaV4dYOE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/LWREa8QfnwU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/6930198631776012640/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=6930198631776012640&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/6930198631776012640?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/6930198631776012640?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/LWREa8QfnwU/getting-moved-to-days.html" title="Getting Moved to Days" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>11</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2011/01/getting-moved-to-days.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcCQXw_eSp7ImA9Wx9WFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-8603188711955728831</id><published>2011-01-20T01:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T01:21:00.241-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T01:21:00.241-06:00</app:edited><title>Watching the Simpsons</title><content type="html">One of my main problems when I first started working nights was that I couldn't watch my favorite show anymore. The Simpsons. It would end up leading me to buy a Tivo, but until then I was in agony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        What I would do though when I could was sneak into break rooms when they were empty and watch a few minutes of it. They were all repeats, but I really didn't watch any other TV than that. So it was important to me that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Well where I work we have an auditorium that has a huge screen on the stage. I would go in there on my rounds, but would just make things were clear and then lock it up for the night. Well after we got written up for eating in the break room while the TV was on we were pretty much screwed. We couldn't even be in the same room as a TV. Much less watch it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I got over that pretty fast. The other guard and I found how to work that big screen in the auditorium. It did take awhile though. I am pretty tech savvy, but I had never worked with a projector before, and I had to be careful too since it was work property and if we broke it then it would really be our hides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        But we got it to work. And we got to watch the Simpsons for a few nights, but they found out pretty quick that there was always no guards around during this certain period of time. So we had to cut it out before we got into some hot water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       And we were already in hot water for some stupid thing that I can't even remember anymore. But you haven't watched the Simpsons till you watch it on the big screen. I guess you can't really say that anymore since they cam out with the Simpsons Movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-8603188711955728831?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vHFhkLI3-gEr7MGiWTZKbJmFN8I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vHFhkLI3-gEr7MGiWTZKbJmFN8I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/kqEdjlntSF4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/8603188711955728831/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=8603188711955728831&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8603188711955728831?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8603188711955728831?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/kqEdjlntSF4/watching-simpsons.html" title="Watching the Simpsons" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2011/01/watching-simpsons.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUMQX06cSp7ImA9Wx9XGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-8727666511481692915</id><published>2011-01-12T03:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T03:58:00.319-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-12T03:58:00.319-06:00</app:edited><title>Cell Phone Incident</title><content type="html">We all have certain people to deal with in the workplace. This person that I am about to tell you about is the type of person that will stab their own mother in the back if they think it will help them advance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I need to lay the foundation real quick so you will be able to understand what I am saying. This person worked for my girlfriend at the time. Me and my girlfriend both would report to the same manager even though we worked in different departments. I am a contractor working security and she is a employee for that company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Anyways this girl lets call her Marcy. Well Marcy would do anything she possibly could to get ahead at work. Meaning backstabbing. She would go tell the facilities manager all the time things that I was doing or that her boss was doing, so my girlfriend would get fired and she would get her job and pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Well she got on this kick about cell phones. I wasn't allowed to have a cell phone. The only guard on the site that wasn't allowed one. Well Marcy would go to the facilities manager daily and tell him that she saw me on the phone with my girlfriend all day everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     So one day I ended up leaving my cell phone with my dad because I wasn't going to give up my cell phone because my son was in the hospital. But I left it in the car to prove a point. Which I did, but in the end it didn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I got called into the office of the facilities manager and he told me to sit down. He started off by saying how many times do I have to tell you that you can not bring your cell phone to work? I said what are you talking about I don't have my cell phone on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      He told me not to lie to him or I would be outta there right now. So I stood up and emptied my pockets, took off my shoes, showed him the insides of my socks, and asked him if he would like to see inside my underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      He then told me very smart where did you hide the phone. I told him I didn't and if you call it then my dad would answer the phone. So he called it and of course my dad answered the phone. He asked him how long he had the phone and my dad told him all day that I gave it to him last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     The facilities manager hung up his phone and just glared at me. I caught him and Marcy in a lie and there was nothing he could do about it. I thought I had won. I was wrong. I got sent out of his office and when I got back to my desk there was Sgt. Retodd waiting with a write-up telling me I was on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I needed the job because the money was better than any other guard post and I didn't have time to search for another job. So I signed it with a big smiley face that was on the phone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-8727666511481692915?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PXeCuM4gPoiw03M6WDpJS7KWg_M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PXeCuM4gPoiw03M6WDpJS7KWg_M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/mDZjX3kShio" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/8727666511481692915/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=8727666511481692915&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8727666511481692915?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8727666511481692915?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/mDZjX3kShio/cell-phone-incident.html" title="Cell Phone Incident" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2011/01/cell-phone-incident.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMAQXo7eyp7ImA9Wx9XEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-4356111442049719854</id><published>2011-01-03T07:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T07:14:00.403-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-03T07:14:00.403-06:00</app:edited><title>Office Bathroom Etiquette</title><content type="html">&lt;style&gt;@font-face {   font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }ol { margin-bottom: 0in; }ul { margin-bottom: 0in; }&lt;/style&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When it comes to using the bathroom at the office a very strict etiquette needs to be followed but rarely is. Here are a few of some very important DON’TS when using the restroom at work. (This may be more for the fellas)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;If      there are 6 urinals and all are empty but the corner one DO NOT go right      next to the only other person using the urinal. Not being homophobic, but      the last thing most guys want to smell or see is another guy when they are      in the can. Especially when dealing with people who they work with in the      office. Plus there are 5 other empty urinals that are more than usable. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;DO NOT      attempt to start up a conversation work or otherwise with someone who is      in the bathroom unless you enter the bathroom together, or both      acknowledge each other at the sink. Again the last thing I want to hear is      another guy asking me about some stupid office question while I am      relieving myself. This might be my only time during the day that I get a      reprieve from the office during the day, and you are ruining my inner sanctum.      &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;It is      NOT OK to urinate on someone else’s shoes. This has not happened to me,      but I have heard stories of people usually offenders of rule #1 that can      not control their stream and end up all over the place. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;CLEAN      UP after yourself. When using a public toilet most people realize there is      going to be some inconvenience such as wiping a dirty toilet, but when you      are in a place with your co workers the last thing they want to do is have      to clean up your misfires all over the toilet seat so they can use it. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;These are just a few rules that every office should make part of their office bathroom policy when it comes to the workplace. I do encourage though when you see people using the urinal and you are leaving to kick them more into the stall, as they can not chase after you. Plus it’s ok if they piss on their own shoes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-4356111442049719854?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G4bF-xFhR-TB7-Z3ZDtUdUkjgnA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G4bF-xFhR-TB7-Z3ZDtUdUkjgnA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/CqBpRxbON5I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/4356111442049719854/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=4356111442049719854&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4356111442049719854?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4356111442049719854?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/CqBpRxbON5I/office-bathroom-etiquette.html" title="Office Bathroom Etiquette" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2011/01/office-bathroom-etiquette.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUCQXs4eSp7ImA9Wx9QF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-4116330709607222429</id><published>2010-12-31T04:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T04:11:00.531-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-31T04:11:00.531-06:00</app:edited><title>The Painters Hole</title><content type="html">Well as you have read before I was in between a rock and a hard place when it came to dealing with the facilities manager. I had gotten moved posts which was fine with me, because I wasn't in his direct line of sight anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Well I was talking with one of the painters one day who also had problems with the facilities manager and told me about his paint storage room. He showed it to me and it was out of the way. No one else had a key to it. It was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I probably spent months in that place. And wouldn't you believe it. I all of a sudden started getting compliments from the facilities manager telling me how I am doing such a better job now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Which I always thought was hilarious, but couldn't say a word. And if I got a call on the radio it was fine because I could just run out of there and be wherever I needed to be, but since no one ever wanted me for anything then I never got a call on the radio which was perfect as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     What would I do for 8 hours a day in a little room you ask? Well I found ways to keep me busy. I was able to start taking naps after lunch again. I thought those days were gone after kindergarten. I would read books, but I don't have many books so I went through those pretty quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Then I went old school. And funny enough this little thing is what probably allowed to me to keep my job. I brought in my Old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Game boy&lt;/span&gt;. I bought some new games for it, and all I did for months was play video games at work. And I was getting COMPLIMENTED FOR IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      So if you have the means then this is one great way to deal with a boss. Just undermine him every chance you get without him knowing about it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-4116330709607222429?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1X37vu7oky__ndaXVTq3seGhtFs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1X37vu7oky__ndaXVTq3seGhtFs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1X37vu7oky__ndaXVTq3seGhtFs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1X37vu7oky__ndaXVTq3seGhtFs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/XbuLRry1FUU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/4116330709607222429/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=4116330709607222429&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4116330709607222429?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4116330709607222429?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/XbuLRry1FUU/painters-hole.html" title="The Painters Hole" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/12/painters-hole.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QMQXwzeSp7ImA9Wx9QEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-5970030078294288147</id><published>2010-12-22T14:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T14:23:00.281-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-22T14:23:00.281-06:00</app:edited><title>Bolt Cutters</title><content type="html">This is one of my prouder moments during my work career. Reason being is because I was always call skinny and weak. The people I worked with always laughed at that. Well at one point a few years ago I put a stop to that. It took me a year, but I gained 50 lbs of muscle and outweighed and stronger than all, but one guy. So I guess they thought that they would put me to the test one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Every now and then we would have people abandon their bikes on-site. But they would leave it chained up at the bike locks at the bike racks. Well we would take bolt cutters to them if the bike hadn't moved in a year. Well one day we came across a MasterLock bike lock with 1/4" steel. All the other guys were thinking of crap we are going to need a electric saw to be able to cut through this thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I spoke up and said "nah I can do it" Famous last words. So they handed me the bolt cutters. I had to open them up all the way just to be able to get around the lock. And I gave one mighty push. I didn't even make a dent that first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      But in those little moments that I had to just test out the lock I apparently had gathered a crowd. I look behind me and through the windows of the building you had everyone watching. So the pressure started to climb. The guys were like "Oh man you have to do it now, you have a crowd staring at you thinking your weak."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       So I moved my position to be able to put more of my weight on the lock. And gave another mighty push. And after about one minute of giving it everything I got the lock started to give. I saw this and kept on going refusing to give up. I moved my legs to get a little more leverage and this seemed to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         I saw it starting to cut in the steel more and more with each passing second, but I was quickly running out of strength. BUT at the very last second I gave it everything I had left and the lock broke away. Not only that I ended up breaking the bolt cutters, which were new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I looked back at the crowd that had gathered and I was getting some nice looks from some female employees. I still have the lock hanging in my office to remind me what I had trained for. The respect I earned for myself and what I had to put in to get to that point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-5970030078294288147?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XW0Cn7vw4NkMQ3aAu0BMi_R3yrY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XW0Cn7vw4NkMQ3aAu0BMi_R3yrY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XW0Cn7vw4NkMQ3aAu0BMi_R3yrY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XW0Cn7vw4NkMQ3aAu0BMi_R3yrY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/iPRXNSnxQ2A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/5970030078294288147/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=5970030078294288147&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/5970030078294288147?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/5970030078294288147?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/iPRXNSnxQ2A/bolt-cutters.html" title="Bolt Cutters" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/12/bolt-cutters.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QASHY7fyp7ImA9Wx9RFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-3810799696641223660</id><published>2010-12-16T15:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T15:35:49.807-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-16T15:35:49.807-06:00</app:edited><title>One Mad Employee</title><content type="html">We have all had to deal with mad coworkers. Whether they were mad at you or just the world in general we have all had to deal with them at the office. Sometimes we are those employees in the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Well I had this one guy come in my office and requested another ID badge because he lost his. But the Office policy is that you have to wait a few days after you lost it and try to look for it. More times than not you do find it in about a day or two hence why that office policy is in place. Anyways he comes into my office and asks for a new badge and I ask him how long has his ID badge been missing. He told me if he knew that then he would go there and get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         That answered kinda confused me, so I asked it in a different way. I asked him when was the last time you remember using it. He told me yesterday. I informed him politely that the office policy is that you have to wait four days before you can get a new one. He then told me OK it has been four days then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I told him no it hasn't because he just told me different. This is where is gets INTERESTING. He gets right in front of my face and says are you trying to argue with me. I get right back in his face and tell him no, I just repeated what you just said. I then asked for his name and he started to walk out. He then turned around and said that he will be back when I am not in there and get his badge anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I walk out of my office following him to get his name and to see if he wanted to back up trying to get in my face. I get his name from an unnamed source. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       But get this. After I write the report and send it to my boss I get a call from a unknown caller. I answer it and it was that dude!!! He actually called to apologize. I was taken aback. Not ten minutes ago this guy was trying to fight me over something as stupid as a badge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I told him since he had the balls to actually call and apologize to just stop by during his lunch and I will get him a new ID badge. Which I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-3810799696641223660?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FwrALAsZPxiwBnN0yTof20o41UM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FwrALAsZPxiwBnN0yTof20o41UM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FwrALAsZPxiwBnN0yTof20o41UM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FwrALAsZPxiwBnN0yTof20o41UM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/35n2j6YgUD8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/3810799696641223660/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=3810799696641223660&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/3810799696641223660?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/3810799696641223660?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/35n2j6YgUD8/one-mad-employee.html" title="One Mad Employee" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/12/one-mad-employee.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIBR38zeip7ImA9Wx5TGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-4175599211568301970</id><published>2010-08-03T08:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T08:52:36.182-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-03T08:52:36.182-05:00</app:edited><title>Internet at Work</title><content type="html">We are lucky enough to work at an office that allows the guards to use the Internet at work. It has been taken away a few times because of some people abusing the system. But you also have the other type guards which I am about to talk about that take it a little to far sometimes, in what is work appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        My first incident at the office took place when I came in on Monday and the weekend guard didn't clear his history on the computer. So anyone in my position wouldn't look into what he was looking up. Well if you thought that then you thought wrong. I open up history to take a gander at what he was looking up. And I have to say I wish I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        He was looking up female circumcision. And how to do it and looking up photos and things like that. It wasn't just a site or two. It looked like he sat there ALL day looking that stuff up. I immediately called one of my friends to discuss the events that had just taken place. Maybe he had a daughter that just started dating, I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      My second incident at the office happened late one night. But I didn't discover it until the morning. But again the guard didn't clear his history on the office computer. So I took another gander at what he was looking at during the night. Well wouldn't ya know it, he was on a gay chat line for 8 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I didn't want to look up the transcripts though since I knew the guy and had just eaten. I did change chairs out though. And NOT because he was gay. I could care less about that. But because if he was talking to some other lovely guys I don't even want to think what I might have been sitting in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       That guy ended up being fired because he kept taking his boyfriend up to the office with him during his shift, so his wife and kids wouldn't find out about him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-4175599211568301970?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w8svXtslt8350QE8AKqA8gMuQ1U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w8svXtslt8350QE8AKqA8gMuQ1U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w8svXtslt8350QE8AKqA8gMuQ1U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w8svXtslt8350QE8AKqA8gMuQ1U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/QqLpW8N0bzA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/4175599211568301970/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=4175599211568301970&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4175599211568301970?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4175599211568301970?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/QqLpW8N0bzA/internet-at-work.html" title="Internet at Work" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/08/internet-at-work.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04MQXgzeyp7ImA9WxBUE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-9027975930619143771</id><published>2010-02-28T12:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T12:33:00.683-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-28T12:33:00.683-06:00</app:edited><title>Two for the price of one</title><content type="html">It is not uncommon to get constables and other law enforcement type people out at this site to serve papers to employees. In fact it usually happens at least once a month. But the other day when this constable walked in he had a little surprise for me. He was not serving one, but two people for two completely different reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    So he walked in the building and I got the call on the radio that they needed me at the front desk. I invited the constable into my office and asked him the name of the individual that we we about to call down. Well he hands me two names which has never happened before. I was thinking great it is hard enough just to get one guy down here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       I look up to see if they were even here today and one was and one wasn't. I couldn't get a hold of the guy who was here though. So he left me two of his cards and told me to give that to the two individuals. I didn't have to, but I was bored and thought OK I will help you make some quick money on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Later that day I get a hold of that one individual and give him the card. The guy calls it and it ends up being the wrong guy. Apparently there are two people with that same name that work here. I was like oh great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I ended up giving both cards to the correct people and called the constable. Well he zooms right over and wants to see those people. Well one guy came and got served and that was the end of it. The other guy didn't want his so guess what he did? He RAN...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I informed very politely that he will not be picking up his summons, because he is in the process of leaving this site right now as quickly as possible. The constable ended up running after him and I am sure that he got his man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-9027975930619143771?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2vziXmahY1NXaujwf6f9bRQAM2k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2vziXmahY1NXaujwf6f9bRQAM2k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2vziXmahY1NXaujwf6f9bRQAM2k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2vziXmahY1NXaujwf6f9bRQAM2k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/gurXET11BZI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/9027975930619143771/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=9027975930619143771&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/9027975930619143771?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/9027975930619143771?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/gurXET11BZI/two-for-price-of-one.html" title="Two for the price of one" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/02/two-for-price-of-one.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIAQXwyfSp7ImA9WxBUEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-2661114260160695550</id><published>2010-02-24T11:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T11:29:00.295-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-24T11:29:00.295-06:00</app:edited><title>I'll take some wine with that</title><content type="html">This actually didn't happen at the site I worked at or with the company I work with. This happened at an OLD RETIREMENT HOME. You will have to remember that. And it had to deal with one of my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        It all started when I was having a house warming party and we invited all the usual guests over. Well one of my friends brings over this huge bottle of wine. I was like whoa that's a lot of booze in one bottle. Well people kept talking about it, and how generous this guy was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Well another friend who actually worked at the same place as him started getting jealous for some reason. And we are all good friends and love to rain on each others parades any time we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         So he spilled the beans on this guy in front of the entire party. What had happened was that the guy who brought the wine had stolen it from the cafe at the RETIREMENT HOME. And Apparently he has done this more than once. They said he probably has more than a liquor store by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Everyone started laughing at it, but thought it was wrong to steal the old folks booze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Funny side note, the guy a few months later was found passed out at work holding a empty bottle of wine AT WORK. He actually was able to keep his job though since nobody would take his shifts and they couldn't hire anybody else for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I still have that bottle too. I think it would be bad to drink and bad to throw it away at the same time, so it is gathering dust at home. I get a little chuckle everytime I look at it though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-2661114260160695550?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kYxBGOe3BsN1egHfyajzRC6XMe4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kYxBGOe3BsN1egHfyajzRC6XMe4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kYxBGOe3BsN1egHfyajzRC6XMe4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kYxBGOe3BsN1egHfyajzRC6XMe4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/7nkzwTjBUfM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/2661114260160695550/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=2661114260160695550&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/2661114260160695550?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/2661114260160695550?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/7nkzwTjBUfM/ill-take-some-wine-with-that.html" title="I'll take some wine with that" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/02/ill-take-some-wine-with-that.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUMQXo7fSp7ImA9WxBVF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-1671344266596855166</id><published>2010-02-20T22:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T22:58:00.405-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-20T22:58:00.405-06:00</app:edited><title>And Bullwinkle</title><content type="html">Now this guy was off his rocker. I think when he finally left our site it was a blessing in disguise. He was a lawsuit waiting to happen. This guy even had a masters degree and was working security as his main job. He is also one of the few people that actually scared me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      This story didn't get him fired, but it is very memorable. He was having this party at his house one day, and I guess he wanted to invite some people at work. So his idea to get the word out was to plaster his info about the party in ALL the break rooms around the building and put a couple on this one girls desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     He knew it, but this girl was one of the head girls on HR. I personally have a problem with people who work in HR. We just don't get a long for some reason. I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     So the party comes and goes and out of 2000 something employees not one of them shows up. He works 3RD shift and no one knows who he is for one. But here comes his big mistake. He goes up to the HR girl and starts a conversation with her. And apparently he told her that she missed on hell of a party. She said oh that was you that left that note on my desk. And then he said the instant classic line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      He said and I quote " Oh man you should of been there we were all drinking and they had ton of pot. We were smoking some crazy weed. You really missed it" And that is all fine and good depending on who you are, BUT YOU DO NOT SAY THAT TO HR! So she goes to the security supervisor. And he ended up keeping his job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Now he was fired a few months after that though for making a joke that I have said in another post, but here it goes again. What do you call a person who has sex with their bike?....A peddle file. And with that he was outta there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     The reason he scared me though was because he was on medication and he was telling everyone that he had a gun. Which is fine, but they way he was talking was scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Also now that I think of it he wasn't fired. They moved him to a different site and he started doing patrol. So he still works for the security company.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-1671344266596855166?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jagD7gktTrScOt0lSqrTix-QqU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jagD7gktTrScOt0lSqrTix-QqU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jagD7gktTrScOt0lSqrTix-QqU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jagD7gktTrScOt0lSqrTix-QqU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/57Cs3SaXM2s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/1671344266596855166/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=1671344266596855166&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/1671344266596855166?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/1671344266596855166?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/57Cs3SaXM2s/and-bullwinkle.html" title="And Bullwinkle" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/02/and-bullwinkle.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MAQX49fyp7ImA9WxBVEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-66087302990071540</id><published>2010-02-15T22:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T22:44:00.067-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T22:44:00.067-06:00</app:edited><title>The Adventures of Rocky</title><content type="html">This guy was a character. Unfortunately he was grossly over weight and ended up in the hospital almost a year ago. He struggled to comb his hair it was so bad. But last I heard he is still trying to lose weight. Anyways this story is one of the stories that I think about every time his name comes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Rocky actually never got fired. He probably should of been and they told the employee that he was, but it never happened which is pretty funny to me. It all started with one of the receptionist. He developed a crush on her. One day she said good morning to him and then it was on. I guess saying hi to some guys is a sign that they want you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     So this guy would start to call her in the morning as soon as she would show up for work. And most of the time he would just stay on the line and she could hear him breathing. Very Creepy. Well it was pretty obvious where the call was coming from since all the phones have caller ID. This actually went one for a month or two before she told anybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    And as soon as she told our supervisor about him, he said he would have a talk with him. This supervisor was very lazy and never said two words to him. Well after another week or two she then went to the site manager, who called the owner of the security company. Who then stepped in and talked to the guard, but still didn't fire him. Then turned around and told the girl that he was fired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     He never called her again, and she never noticed him walking by her every morning. Which starts to make you think, did she even know who the person looked like that was pretty much stalking her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-66087302990071540?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Rb_hBleVrO0aIjA_wE0dG5lV6zI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Rb_hBleVrO0aIjA_wE0dG5lV6zI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Rb_hBleVrO0aIjA_wE0dG5lV6zI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Rb_hBleVrO0aIjA_wE0dG5lV6zI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/tyw4_CWlHRc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/66087302990071540/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=66087302990071540&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/66087302990071540?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/66087302990071540?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/tyw4_CWlHRc/adventures-of-rocky.html" title="The Adventures of Rocky" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/02/adventures-of-rocky.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIEQX89eip7ImA9WxBWFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-4765438012136458343</id><published>2010-02-06T12:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T12:55:00.162-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-06T12:55:00.162-06:00</app:edited><title>I did it with a Wiffle Ball Bat Soo</title><content type="html">I wanted to give you a warning before reading this article. It will piss you off and it is quite unbelievable, but I thought I would tell the story since it has come full circle now. I will start from the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        One day this guy walks into the building and tells me he has a interview set up. I ask him who his contact person is and he tells me. So I give the person a call to let them know that they have a visitor. I call the person and she informs me that she is not expecting that person for another month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         I tell the guy the situation and he gets very angry, and demands to talk to that person. I tell the contact person that he wants to talk to you. She said that she would be right down. She came down and they actually argued for a few minutes and he ended up leaving in a hurry. She came in rolling her eyes, but didn't say anything and went back to her desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Well at the end of the month the same guy came in. Apparently he still had a job interview after blowing up on the person who was thinking about hiring him. Long story short then end up hiring him and a few months later he ends up becoming permanent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           So I didn't hear anything else about him really other than seeing him around for about a year. But one day our big boss walks in and asks about this person. I tell him that I know who he is, and that he is kind of a jerk. Well he tells me that is not even the start of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Apparently him and his girl ended up getting really drunk one night and he beat her up with a baseball bat. She ended up in the hospital with reconstructive surgery. She will never be the same. And that dude is actually at work the next day joking around with some co workers. Later that week we had a constable show up, but only to serve him some papers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          So the guy still works here after all that. I know that the company can't do anything about it because it had nothing to do with them. I am just surprised that he was able to walk out of jail after doing that to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Almost a year later after that though a manager walks in a hands me his ID card and tells me that he will not be coming back. In fact they don't plan on seeing him for 2-5 years or so now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-4765438012136458343?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5qc-M8O7OMQuGXDP0UdPh33bIQQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5qc-M8O7OMQuGXDP0UdPh33bIQQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5qc-M8O7OMQuGXDP0UdPh33bIQQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5qc-M8O7OMQuGXDP0UdPh33bIQQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/Ha09M6mypOY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/4765438012136458343/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=4765438012136458343&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4765438012136458343?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4765438012136458343?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/Ha09M6mypOY/i-did-it-with-wiffle-ball-bat-soo.html" title="I did it with a Wiffle Ball Bat Soo" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/02/i-did-it-with-wiffle-ball-bat-soo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cARnk8eSp7ImA9WxBWFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-5635316305864044364</id><published>2010-02-05T10:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T16:30:47.771-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-05T16:30:47.771-06:00</app:edited><title>One MAD dude</title><content type="html">I know people get pissed off when they are trying to get a hold of their spouse at work and can't reach them. But when you actually come up to their work and start cussing and yelling at the people who work there is not really the smartest thing to do for your sake and your wives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      It all started one day in early 2005. I was doing my rounds and I heard this guy shouting down the hall. While I was walking up to him I saw that he was shouting at these two girls who were the receptionist. They were asking him to be quiet and settle down. And if he can't then he needs to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    He responded and said that he didn't have to do one thing that they say. By that time I got there and I spoke up and said no, but you do have to listen to me. He looked at me and was kind of taken aback that he gathered some attention. So he goes and sits down and tries to call his wife a few more times before getting pissed off again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    He came up to me and asked me to escort him to his desk. I tell him no because he has already become a problem and he needs to stay where he is at. That she can come down to see you. Well he got pissed off again and started cussing up a storm again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    He said that he has gone up there before. I asked him who let you in? He got real quiet and didn't say anything at that point. After a moment he said that he wanted to talk to my supervisor. So I obliged him and call my supervisor up to the front desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    He asked my boss the same thing and he as well told him no that he can not go upstairs. So then he started saying he wanted every ones names and the corporate number.I was more than happy to give him my name and badge number. (I was thinking to myself...I always wanted to say that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    At that time though he saw his spouse come from upstairs and and give him some keys that ended up being his house keys. All of that was over some keys because he forgot his. He then turned to argue some more with everybody, but me and my supervisor escorted him off-site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  We then gave him a criminal trespassing warning and told me he was no longer allowed to be on-site.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-5635316305864044364?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zxzaahe7r_TdD6UHLCCYLB_wl6c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zxzaahe7r_TdD6UHLCCYLB_wl6c/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zxzaahe7r_TdD6UHLCCYLB_wl6c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zxzaahe7r_TdD6UHLCCYLB_wl6c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/yGqUsUlTyVA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/5635316305864044364/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=5635316305864044364&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/5635316305864044364?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/5635316305864044364?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/yGqUsUlTyVA/one-mad-dude.html" title="One MAD dude" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2010/02/one-mad-dude.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YAQXYzeip7ImA9WxNaEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-8784960751373737081</id><published>2009-11-23T21:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T21:59:00.882-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-23T21:59:00.882-06:00</app:edited><title>Fit to be tied</title><content type="html">Here on site there is a fitness center. Only employees are allowed to us it, and if a guard uses it then they will be fired. Not everyone listens to this warning and I guess they think they will not get caught. That is one of the very few things that I didn't do. But I do know a few people who did. This story here is the creme of the crop on those stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        We had this guard around the end of 2005 and I was the one training him on his first day. And he even made the remark that he wanted to use the fitness center. Well apparently he just didn't want to listen to my advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        It all started when he was working out in the fitness center one night and a employee came in to do the same. They start talking and he even admitted to the employee that he was not supposed to be working out. He just told the guy that he did not have a gym membership and just wanted to get pumped for his graduation ceremonies that was going to happen the next day from ITT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Of course the guy sent a email to the supervisor the next day and the guard got a verbal warning. Well you would think hey I got caught once and was able to keep my job, I better do what I am supposed to at least for awhile till the heats off. Well if you thought that then you thought wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       The very next night a different employee came in there and saw him working out and he told that guy to that he didn't have a membership and that he wasn't supposed to be in there, BUT it helped him to stay awake and help the night go by faster. The employee said maybe you should sneak in here when no employees are around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        So the supervisor found out again and fired the guy. And I don't know if you were wondering or not, but YES HE WAS IN FULL UNIFORM while he was working out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-8784960751373737081?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYEXHSNfi_itt8WoDjXzLj4mWtI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYEXHSNfi_itt8WoDjXzLj4mWtI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYEXHSNfi_itt8WoDjXzLj4mWtI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYEXHSNfi_itt8WoDjXzLj4mWtI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/resbIt7Eclw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/8784960751373737081/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=8784960751373737081&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8784960751373737081?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8784960751373737081?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/resbIt7Eclw/fit-to-be-tied.html" title="Fit to be tied" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/11/fit-to-be-tied.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4CSHo_fSp7ImA9WxNaEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-1591710423531701436</id><published>2009-11-23T14:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T21:56:09.445-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-23T21:56:09.445-06:00</app:edited><title>Hummingbirds</title><content type="html">This is a pretty cool thing that happened to me the other day. What happened was I got this call on the radio for me to come outside to where this other guard was at. Well I was busy working on my blog, but I ended up having to go out there since it is my real job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Good thing I did though because when I got outside I saw this guard standing by this little bird. He told me that something was wrong with him, and he didn't know what to do for it. He wouldn't pick it up to examine him though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Well it ended up being a hummingbird. Which has always been one of my favorites. I knelt beside him and kinda touched him to see what he would do. He didn't even move. So I thought for a second and I picked him up. He started to move a little bit, but only to grab one of my fingers for traction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I looked him over and he had this feather kinda stuck in his eye or covering his eye. I don't know, but I pulled it out of his eye. Well it was weird because the little guy perked up, but still wouldn't fly off. So I held him for a little bit and then I raised my hand a little higher and the little guy flew like a speeding bullet away to some trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     It was very cool and how many people can say that they have held a hummingbird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-1591710423531701436?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ftNsO2EZ4Lz3l2HCM3d_ddR2O5s/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ftNsO2EZ4Lz3l2HCM3d_ddR2O5s/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ftNsO2EZ4Lz3l2HCM3d_ddR2O5s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ftNsO2EZ4Lz3l2HCM3d_ddR2O5s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/xMZ7bg2Zna8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/1591710423531701436/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=1591710423531701436&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/1591710423531701436?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/1591710423531701436?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/xMZ7bg2Zna8/hummingbirds.html" title="Hummingbirds" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/11/hummingbirds.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4FRH84eCp7ImA9WxJVFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-5668956873909677683</id><published>2009-07-02T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T10:01:55.130-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-02T10:01:55.130-05:00</app:edited><title>Sneaking in womans office</title><content type="html">Alright before I start this story I want everyone to know that I ended up marrying this person so it all worked out in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       It all started out when I started working nights out at the corporate site. The first day I was out there I saw this one girl walking by. Took my breath away. I couldn't believe my eyes. Of course I didn't say anything, but when she walked by she said hello and all that would come out was this sound that sounded like stepping on a cats tail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        After working out there for a few months I did end up talking to her for a little bit and found out that she was the lead receptionist at the site. She was real nice, so I figured she had the ugly duckling syndrome. Where they don't know how hot they are. Why else would she spend any time talking to a security guard. I found that most of the girls that worked there had that attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        So after thinking about it for awhile I figured out that I needed to find more out about this girl. See if she was with someone else and anything else that might help me bag this babe. So late one night when everybody was gone I snuck into her office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        I went through her desk and didn't find anything, so I started to go through her computer. I found some pics of her with these two kids. So I figured that she was probably married, but I kept going through and couldn't find any pics of any guy. BUT I ended up forgetting about it since she apparently had two kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Well a couple of months later I was talking to her and she had one of her kids with her. So during the conversation I thought it would be a good time to bring up the other one. Ends up that she doesn't have two kids. The other kid was a cousin. And she was single. So I started doing jumping jacks in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         I wouldn't end up making a move until a few more months later. We ended up meeting up downtown and she followed me home. Which was awesome. And the rest as they say is history. We have been together over 4 years and have more kids together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I ended up telling her about sneaking into her office after we were married. She freaked out, but chilled out pretty quick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-5668956873909677683?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MFbFTORBI9_trnH1Yj1lzMxt8io/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MFbFTORBI9_trnH1Yj1lzMxt8io/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MFbFTORBI9_trnH1Yj1lzMxt8io/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MFbFTORBI9_trnH1Yj1lzMxt8io/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/g7TO4LzrMuA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/5668956873909677683/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=5668956873909677683&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/5668956873909677683?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/5668956873909677683?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/g7TO4LzrMuA/sneaking-in-womans-office.html" title="Sneaking in womans office" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/07/sneaking-in-womans-office.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUHSXc7fCp7ImA9WxJWEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-7285164636074567032</id><published>2009-06-17T15:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T15:57:18.904-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-17T15:57:18.904-05:00</app:edited><title>Another Office Prank</title><content type="html">After reading this blog you will find that I have a lot of extra time on my hands. But a lot of stuff happens regardless. Anyways the extra time I always find ways to fill my day with office pranks. Because there is nothing I love more than a good office prank. Well this specific one fell right into my hands and I couldn't let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     A lot of people were registering to vote for the upcoming elections and this one guy had to go because his shift was over so he gave his information to his brother. Well as you know if you have ever registered to vote that you have to sign them before you mail them in. Well he wasn't able to sign his so he had his brother sign his. I pointed out how that was a felony, but he even had a picture of his brother signature that he had emailed to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Well the guy had no idea that I was aware of anything that had transpired. So the owner of the security company came out the next day. I like to call him dad. Anyways I told him about it so that he could call him and give him a good scare. Which he was all for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       So we called him into the office and I didn't say a word. I planned it all, and when it came down to it I just wanted to admire my perfect office prank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       He sits down and asks whats up. My dad starts off by saying that he got a call from homeland security about one of his guards being apart of some voter fraud. The guard then started to look real nervous and said"Voter Fraud?" My dad continued. "yes apparently they have this photo of your signature that they got on your email as well as your registration card that looks nothing like your real signature" The Guard starts to turn colors and asks "Oh your not allowed to do that?" My dad then told him "No, it is a felony. But the best thing for you to do is go ahead and just turn yourself in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      The guard looks like he is about to break down. I already thought we took it a bit to far, but sensing this my dad told him it was just a prank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I don't think I can describe the face I got for that from him. Almost like he was going to try and hit me, but so relieved at the same time. He said that he was freaking out and about to just run. We all started laughing out loud and said nah it was just a office prank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I called him later that day to make sure he was alright. He told me yeah he was fine and that it was a great prank, but now I know he was going to get me back. I said I know and that I am waiting for a good one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-7285164636074567032?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WJpCKVWphOsAupeiDFPIohdKPWU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WJpCKVWphOsAupeiDFPIohdKPWU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WJpCKVWphOsAupeiDFPIohdKPWU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WJpCKVWphOsAupeiDFPIohdKPWU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/7Cbh6z_eaqs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/7285164636074567032/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=7285164636074567032&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/7285164636074567032?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/7285164636074567032?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/7Cbh6z_eaqs/another-office-prank.html" title="Another Office Prank" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/06/another-office-prank.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMDRHYzcCp7ImA9WxJQGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-3975505627163085431</id><published>2009-06-01T08:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T08:37:55.888-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-01T08:37:55.888-05:00</app:edited><title>A sleep at the helm</title><content type="html">This is one on my favorite stories. I again wasn't here for it, but I heard about it from two people and read the write ups and incident reports about it. It all happened again in the command center. The post that always has to be manned and all you have to look at are 3 monitors that show all the cameras on site, of nothing happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Well there was this one guy who worked it pretty regularly. But he also had the reputation of falling asleep a lot in there, but he had never been caught. Well this time he did, and it ended up being one of the funniest things in the world. And he did not get fired for it either. In fact I think he got moved to 2nd shift soon after this happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        It all started when one of the guards was going to the command center to give the guy a break. So he could stretch his legs, get something to eat, anything like that before he would be tied down again for another few hours. Well as soon as he walked in the door he found the guy sawing some serious logs. The guy was OUT. So the awake guard leaves and calls the supervisor over to show him, because he didn't know what to do. Apparently he never has heard of cover for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          So the supervisor walks in there and starts trying to wake him up. He says his name once, twice, three times. The guy is still not stirring. And what happens next everyone swears happened.  The supervisor starts yelling his name right in his ear and this dude is still out. He's not playing around, but he is really out of it. They had no idea what to do. If I was there I would of said pour water on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           The supervisor gets real mad and starts to slap the dude. The guy instantly wakes up and wonders what the hell is going on. They told me to think of someone sleeping really hard and then start banging pots around and watch them freak out. That is what this guy did. So imagine if you will this big burly supervisor type person just slapping this guard back and forth not knowing what the hell is going on and on top of that he is still half asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-3975505627163085431?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gIyodoUrbi3TvwUIRg9zQnudv_0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gIyodoUrbi3TvwUIRg9zQnudv_0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gIyodoUrbi3TvwUIRg9zQnudv_0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gIyodoUrbi3TvwUIRg9zQnudv_0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/Ty4G6i7e-6g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/3975505627163085431/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=3975505627163085431&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/3975505627163085431?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/3975505627163085431?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/Ty4G6i7e-6g/sleep-at-helm.html" title="A sleep at the helm" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/06/sleep-at-helm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4HSHw9fCp7ImA9WxJSFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-8571179088092701947</id><published>2009-05-05T00:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T12:35:39.264-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-05T12:35:39.264-05:00</app:edited><title>Is that Oregano or Weed in your Office? Office Prank</title><content type="html">This is one of my best pranks that I played on Sgt. Retodd. I am sure we have established that there is no love lost between the two of us. And the stuff I did, I did because I had back up and if I didn't do a good job in the first place then I would of been out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Me and the facilities manager(before I got on his bad side) hatched a plan to have Sgt. Retodd go outside for some reason and I would go in his office and tape some oregano under his desk and then do a random "drug" search and find his drugs that he had been hiding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      So the Facilities Manager called him on the radio and told him to go outside by the generators and wait for a maintenance guy, and not to leave that spot until he showed up. That is when I made my move. As soon as he was out of eye shot I snuck into his office and taped this little baggy of oregano I got from the cafe under his desk. I then went back to my post and told the facilities manager that he was good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       So he called Sgt. Retodd on the radio and said never mind that they aren't going to be able to make it today. Well after talking about it we thought it would be best to wait a day so he didn't get suspicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       The next day rolled by and right before lunch the boss strolled into the sarges office and said that he had reason to believe that drugs were being stored in his office. Well the sarge was outraged, but said go ahead and look anywhere you like. So the boss looked around a little bit knowing where I hid the baggy, but not wanting to go straight to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Well Sarge started to get impatient and asked him is he was done. Boss man said not yet, but what is this. He then pulled the bag of oregano out from under his desk. The look on Sgt. Retodds face was enough to get me through the rest of the week. He really turned green. And his eyes were about as big as dinner plates. We all couldn't hold it in and just started laughing hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        As soon as the Sarge figured out what was going on the color in his face started to return. This also helped me out by accident. He was so pissed off that he left me alone for about a month. Which was like heaven for me at the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-8571179088092701947?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jV1QfFBpzJetxZ6SYOp_-aYOgwc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jV1QfFBpzJetxZ6SYOp_-aYOgwc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jV1QfFBpzJetxZ6SYOp_-aYOgwc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jV1QfFBpzJetxZ6SYOp_-aYOgwc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/TOyA172ZIRc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/8571179088092701947/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=8571179088092701947&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8571179088092701947?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8571179088092701947?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/TOyA172ZIRc/is-that-oregano-or-weed-in-your-office.html" title="Is that Oregano or Weed in your Office? Office Prank" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/05/is-that-oregano-or-weed-in-your-office.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQBQnk5fyp7ImA9WxJSEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-8866795091796305922</id><published>2009-04-28T06:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T09:45:53.727-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-29T09:45:53.727-05:00</app:edited><title>Office Stories - Office Supervisor Grazing</title><content type="html">This happened a few years ago on the night shift. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t working the shift, but had first hand knowledge about what was going on. Someone was stealing from the cafe that we have at the office. And this is how we caught them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I would like to say however that when I worked a post as a guard and it was during the holidays, I myself would sneak into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; for a soda or some chips, but nothing more, and I would only do that once in a blue moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Well we got this report from the head of the office &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; saying that she has been missing a lot of supplies lately and she thinks that someone has been stealing food from her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; at night. Well we made some jokes about it being out night supervisor because he almost weighed 400 lbs and would be the most likely suspect, but it was only a joke because he would not be stupid enough to steal from the office…right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    So when he came in that afternoon my boss was talking to him about it, and telling him that he needed to keep an eye out at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; because someone was stealing food from it at night. Well the guy started getting real nervous and started to ask weird questions asking us if we knew who it was and things like that, which he would normally never ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    But like magic the stealing from the office &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; had stopped over night. So it was pretty obvious who it was. But what we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t know was that he had an accomplice. After a few weeks it had started again. We had another guard that was told to watch him, and what he found was the funnies thing. Not only was the 400 lb guard sneaking into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; to graze. So was another 350 lb guard that we had working the night shift with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     So they would spend hours just munching on food at night. After we discovered this we reported it, and again like magic nothing happened. But it still was funny watching 700 lbs stalking the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; in the middle of the night. The office &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;café&lt;/span&gt; never knew what happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-8866795091796305922?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DTqIPhFpg3FD2vVU5DDjwKI_S5E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DTqIPhFpg3FD2vVU5DDjwKI_S5E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DTqIPhFpg3FD2vVU5DDjwKI_S5E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DTqIPhFpg3FD2vVU5DDjwKI_S5E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/DRkfZUtWDjY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/8866795091796305922/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=8866795091796305922&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8866795091796305922?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/8866795091796305922?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/DRkfZUtWDjY/office-stories-office-supervisor.html" title="Office Stories - Office Supervisor Grazing" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/04/office-stories-office-supervisor.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYNQ3k5fip7ImA9WxJTEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-4313368379358464470</id><published>2009-04-20T10:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T14:36:32.726-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-20T14:36:32.726-05:00</app:edited><title>The Office Games</title><content type="html">Once a year usually during fall the company I work at will hold corporate games. Which includes things like basketball, tug-o-war, and things like that. They also serve beer at this thing too. I have been at this office for almost 5 years now, so I have been through 4 of them by now. We are not allowed to partake in the game though since we are vendors. Anyways we always thought someone would get hurt, but every year we came out of it unscathed. Maybe some heat exhaustion, but nothing serious. NOT THIS YEAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        A few security guards went out to where they were holding the office games, and as soon as we got there someone was saying that someone else had a burn and that they were looking for us. Well we ended up finding that female and she had got a rug burn on her knee. Which I thought was hilarious and made a joke about it as soon as she was out of earshot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       So we thought that was the excitement for the day. Not a chance. We are sitting in the shade watching everyone else make idiots of themselves and we see these people running towards us, calling for us. They said someone was hurt really bad. We went to where a crowd had gathered and when we got there we saw this guy laying there with his knee looking a different direction than where it was supposed to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      We called 911 and had them show up to come and get this guy. We don't have anything for that in our little medical bags and the last thing I was going to do is move him. So they get out there and start working on him when we get another call about someone maybe having a broken ankle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Thankfully EMS was already there so they wouldn't have to go far to pick this girl up to if it became a problem. She ended up just having a sprained ankle, but everyone else was freaking out. We gave her some ice packs and she said someone was coming to pick her up to take her to get X-Rays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        They ended up calling off the office games after that though since they don't need anyone else trying to get workers comp. So I think this was the last office games that they are going to hold. Which kinda sucks because I liked the free food, since they wouldn't give me any beer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-4313368379358464470?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AQkTnyOLNLF0q26qv3HsWJEnn7U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AQkTnyOLNLF0q26qv3HsWJEnn7U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AQkTnyOLNLF0q26qv3HsWJEnn7U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AQkTnyOLNLF0q26qv3HsWJEnn7U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/h2FLmXhwYh0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/4313368379358464470/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=4313368379358464470&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4313368379358464470?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/4313368379358464470?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/h2FLmXhwYh0/office-games.html" title="The Office Games" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/04/office-games.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08EQX84eCp7ImA9WxVbFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-2808938595285361556</id><published>2009-04-02T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T10:23:20.130-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-02T10:23:20.130-05:00</app:edited><title>Crazy, Crazy I tell you</title><content type="html">Talk about one crazy hour. With working here things are really slow or they all come down at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       We got a call about a recent termination loitering around the site. We asked who the individual was since we were not notified of any recent terms. They told us the name and he was still active in all our databases. We thought great how long has this guy been gone and we didn't know about it. So we deactivated him in our databases and went on the man hunt to try and find this guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       After about 30 minutes of searching the premises we finally came to the conclusion that either this guy saw us and left in a hurry, or the person might of been imagining things and thought they saw the person when they really didn't. We then put a BOLO out to all the guards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Then someone came in and said this person has just been terminated and he is in the front lobby going crazy. So we went up to lobby and what she said was an understatement. That guy was going nuts. He hadn't even worked out here for a month yet. And when those type of people see security they either do one of two things. They calm down and quietly leave or they go even more nuts and try to fight. Well this guy didn't calm down. He ran down the hall though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       After having to catch him and sit him back down he wanted to talk to the person who fired him. We said we would give her a call which we did and she said nope and that he needs to be escorted off site. So we told that she said no and that he has to go. We then asked him if he was waiting for his ride or if he had his own vehicle. He said he had his own. I think the presence of 3 guards standing around him did start to calm him down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       He then walked out the door and we were watching him, then he made the turn and started coming back to try and get back inside. We met him outside again to head him off and told him he had to leave. He thought about it for a few minutes then I guess thought it best to go ahead and leave. He got in his vehicle and drove like a bat outta hell off site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       We hate doing that as guards because we really do bad about it, but it is our job. Now there are some super cops who really enjoy it, but we try to shy away from those guys as much as possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-2808938595285361556?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DFuv0n8UMcxTGJ4npu70AedicEc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DFuv0n8UMcxTGJ4npu70AedicEc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DFuv0n8UMcxTGJ4npu70AedicEc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DFuv0n8UMcxTGJ4npu70AedicEc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/g69iJXUF7Z8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/2808938595285361556/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=2808938595285361556&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/2808938595285361556?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/2808938595285361556?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/g69iJXUF7Z8/crazy-crazy-i-tell-you.html" title="Crazy, Crazy I tell you" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2009/04/crazy-crazy-i-tell-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQHRns4eCp7ImA9WxVbFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-7568314325377678351</id><published>2009-03-31T00:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T19:05:37.530-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-31T19:05:37.530-05:00</app:edited><title>Office Prank - The sky is falling...With Glitter?</title><content type="html">This was another good ole prank that we played on Sgt. Retodd. I was tired of him making my life a living hell so I wanted to return the favor in the best way I knew possible. By getting ahead. And that is what I like to live by. Don't worry about getting even...Get ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      The basis of this plan was simple. We had to sneak into his office and put this stockpile of glitter in his vent. That way when he turned the air on it would push all that glitter and it would go everywhere in his office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Problem is how to do this when he was around. Well we decided to make a quick move when he went on patrol. So when he went out we made our move. He kept locking his door. You would think he would know that, that wouldn't stop me. By this time I had become a experienced locksmith...Plus I had the master key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      So we make our move. We run the ladder in and I get up there and run into a small problem. To get into the vent I had to cut into the duct. Something that I had not anticipated. But do you think that would stop me? Nope. I make a quick move and get some box cutters and make a big enough hole to get it all in there. Then put some electrical tape to seal it back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     But time was running out, and it was taking longer that I had originally thought. But I was able to get it done in time. Just barely though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Now I wasn't in there at the time the air came back on in his office, but I can tell you this. When he walked out, you need sunglasses to look at him because he was so shiny. I told him that it was a improvement. He just turned around and walked out the door for the day. So I took a look in his office and it looked like a sheet of snow had covered his office. It was just very sparkly snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Again I got permission from the boss man before I did this prank so I wouldn't get into to much trouble. But this guy really did have it coming to him. And I enjoyed being the person to make sure he got it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-7568314325377678351?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Af1P2pN30k0F1uTxobeiMkwVojk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Af1P2pN30k0F1uTxobeiMkwVojk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Af1P2pN30k0F1uTxobeiMkwVojk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Af1P2pN30k0F1uTxobeiMkwVojk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~4/Vi4GN-bZWkU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/feeds/7568314325377678351/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6866804037553612344&amp;postID=7568314325377678351&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/7568314325377678351?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6866804037553612344/posts/default/7568314325377678351?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/onecrazyoffice/~3/Vi4GN-bZWkU/office-prank-sky-is-fallingwith-glitter.html" title="Office Prank - The sky is falling...With Glitter?" /><author><name>Joe Somebody</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12206099674374341999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.onecrazyoffice.com/2008/09/office-prank-sky-is-fallingwith-glitter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cCSX46cCp7ImA9WxVbEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6866804037553612344.post-7715857642187514787</id><published>2009-03-25T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T13:17:48.018-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-25T13:17:48.018-05:00</app:edited><title>Falling asleep at work - I was just resting my eyes</title><content type="html">This happened way back in April of 2007. On the site we have what you call a command center. This is where all the monitors are located for the cameras around the site. And they also made it a rule that you can not leave that post unattended for any reason. If you have to go to the restroom then you have to call another guard to come and relieve you. It is a bit crazy I know, but you have to listen to the client, and that's what they wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Well we work on 8 hour shifts and sometimes 10 and 12. Can you imagine being stuck to one spot for that long? Now think if you had to work the night shift so your already tired and your just watching the most boring thing on these monitors. Nothing absolutely nothing went on. Every now and then you would see a guard doing their rounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Well at the time we had a night supervisor who ruled the night with an iron fist. But he was also the type of person that you have to do what he says, not what he does. Which is the most infuriating type of person for me to deal with. And I never really had to deal with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Well this on night in April there was this guard working the command center. The supervisor walked in and saw him with his eyes closed. So he of course blew up on him for sleeping and also sleeping in the most important post on the site. And they gave him a write up for it. And a few days later I got my hands on the write up to see what it said. And what I read was priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         There was a little box where it says employee statement. And all it said was the following.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was just resting my eyes&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6866804037553612344-7715857642187514787?l=www.onecrazyoffice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4HOgR05iQeSYALLSjCjH_T7WhiI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4HOgR05iQeSYALLSjCjH_T7WhiI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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