User Group? I heardly knew 'er!
I just do not bloody get it anymore.
We have an internal mail system here at my company, and it is utilized by the entire staff, most of which I assume have had some sort of sympathetic rearing and at least a cursory tryst within a hall of greater learning.
However, on a daily basis I am stunned and horrified at the moronic sniping, puerile commentary and incessant back-and-forth detail-shagging and finger pointing. At the use of administration mail groups to expose idiocy within another department in amanner most infantile. People sending 7 meg image attachments of Bill in accounting’s head photoshopped poorly over a snapshot of a flatulent donkey. Spelling that looks as if one simply mashed the keyboard with one’s forehead in a fit if rage. Bloody hell, I’ve a mind to replace the cola vending machine with a diaper dispenser, and initiating time-outs and nappy time.
Slagging.
Sniping.
Posturing.
Off-color humor.
Pictures of bloody cats, kids, cuteness.
Excuses.
Bitching.
Bloody hell. i’d rather mediate a schoolyard, or herd cats. It’s gotta be easier.
Seems that the info age, the facelessness of technology, gives every basement-dweller the opportunity to be Captain Nutsack of the Hairy Beanbag Battalion. Tough guys, hm? Demi-gods? In person, they wouldn’t budge if I let fly and pissed in their lap, all the while massaging melted butter into their scalp.
Beh.
We have an internal mail system here at my company, and it is utilized by the entire staff, most of which I assume have had some sort of sympathetic rearing and at least a cursory tryst within a hall of greater learning.
However, on a daily basis I am stunned and horrified at the moronic sniping, puerile commentary and incessant back-and-forth detail-shagging and finger pointing. At the use of administration mail groups to expose idiocy within another department in amanner most infantile. People sending 7 meg image attachments of Bill in accounting’s head photoshopped poorly over a snapshot of a flatulent donkey. Spelling that looks as if one simply mashed the keyboard with one’s forehead in a fit if rage. Bloody hell, I’ve a mind to replace the cola vending machine with a diaper dispenser, and initiating time-outs and nappy time.
Slagging.
Sniping.
Posturing.
Off-color humor.
Pictures of bloody cats, kids, cuteness.
Excuses.
Bitching.
Bloody hell. i’d rather mediate a schoolyard, or herd cats. It’s gotta be easier.
Seems that the info age, the facelessness of technology, gives every basement-dweller the opportunity to be Captain Nutsack of the Hairy Beanbag Battalion. Tough guys, hm? Demi-gods? In person, they wouldn’t budge if I let fly and pissed in their lap, all the while massaging melted butter into their scalp.
Beh.
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