During my early days at the Post Office, a supervisor overheard me use the term junk mail in a conversation with another employee. I got a 10-minute ass-chewing over the fact that 3rd Class postage was valuable to our customers and that the postage helped pay my salary yadayadayada…… When he finishes with me he hollers down the elevator shaft to the basement, “Send those four tubs of junk mail upstairs so the can be worked!”. After that episode, i sometimes wonder about the wisdom of having spent a 35 year career working there. Somehow i survived.
Food for thought: In order to become a postal supervisor, does your brain have to turn to mush to get promoted, or does your brain turn to mush afterwards as a result.
I seem to remember reading the ingredient label on a tube of Preparation H hemorrhoid ointment when I was a kid. It stated that the active ingredient was shark oil.
Bloody brilliant, mate!