I love my job ! I love my job ! I love my job !
This is even funnier when you realize it’s real!
Next time you have a bad day at work think of this guy.
Bob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana .
He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs.
Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister.
She then sent it to radio station 103 .5 on FM dial in
Indiana, who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest.
Needless to say, she won.
Read his letter below…
Hi Sue,
Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.
Last week I had a bad day at the office.
I know you’ve been feeling down lately at work,
so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize
it’s not so bad after all.
Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must
bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea.
I wear a suit to the office.
It’s a wet suit.
This time of year the water is quite cool.
So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel
powered industrial water heater.
This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea.
It heats it to a delightful temperature.
It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose,
which is taped to the air hose.
Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I’ve used it several times
with no complaints.
What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is
take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wet suit.
This floods my whole suit with warm water.
It’s like working in a Jacuzzi.
Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt
started to itch.
So, of course, I scratched it.
This only made things worse.
Within a few seconds my ass started to burn.
I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done.
In agony I realized what had happened.
The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit.
Now, since I don’t have any hair on my back, the jellyfish
couldn’t stick to it, however, the crack of my ass was not as fortunate.
When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the
jellyfish into the crack of my ass.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator.
His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he,
along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically.
Needless to say, I aborted the dive.
I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression
stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface
to begin my chamber dry decompression.
When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but
my brass helmet.
As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of
laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me
to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber.
The cream put the fire out, but I couldn’t shit for two days because
my ass was swollen shut.
So, next time you’re having a bad day at work, think about how much
worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your ass.
Now repeat to yourself, ‘I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.’
Dave Barry on Colonoscopies and More
There comes a time in every persons life when gastroenterologists make it onto the list of doctors. Once you have been introduced to the specialty, you must become reacquainted at least every ten years or so. If your personal or family history is not pristine then you get to learn your gastroenterologists first name and perhaps have coffee together on a regular basis.
Dave Barry on Colonoscopies
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an
appointment for a colonoscopy.
A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the
colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one
point passing briefly through Minneapolis .
Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough,
reassuring and patient manner.
I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn’t really hear anything he said,
because my brain was shrieking, quote, ‘HE’S GOING TO STICK A TUBE
17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!’
I left Andy’s office with some written instructions, and a
prescription for a product called ‘MoviPrep,’ which comes in a box
large enough to hold a microwave oven.
I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say
that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America ‘s
enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous.
Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation.
In accordance with my instructions, I didn’t eat any solid food that
day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with
less flavor.
Then, in the evening , I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of
powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with
lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter
is about 32 gallons).. Then you have to drink the whole jug. This
takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes – and here I am being
kind – like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a
hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a
great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, ‘a loose, watery
bowel movement may result’.
This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may
experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don’t want to be too graphic, here,
but: have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much
the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times
when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours
pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You
eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally
empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as
far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start
eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep.
The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous.
Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been
experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was
thinking, ‘What if I spurt on Andy?’ How do you apologize to a friend
for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood
and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they
led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside
a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of
those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts; the kind that,
when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are
actually naked..
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left
hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I
was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka
in their MoviPrep.
At first I was ticked off that I hadn’t thought of this, but then I
pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to
the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode.
You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room,
where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did
not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around
there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point.
Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began
hooking something up to the needle in my hand.
There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was
‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs
that could be playing during this particular procedure, ‘Dancing
Queen’ had to be the least appropriate.
‘You want me to turn it up?’ said Andy, from somewhere behind me.
‘Ha ha,’ I said. And then it was time; the moment I had been dreading
for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself,
because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it
was like.
I have no idea! Really! I slept through it! One moment, ABBA was
yelling, ‘Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,’ and the
next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow
mood.
Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt
excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was
all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors.
I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
Subject: More on colonoscopies . . .
A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by
his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their
colonoscopies:
1. ‘Take it easy, Doc. You’re boldly going where no man has gone
before!’
2. ‘Find Amelia Earhart yet?’
3. ‘Can you hear me NOW?’
4. ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’
5. ‘You know, in Arkansas , we’re now legally married.’
6. ‘Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?’
7. ‘You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out….’
8. ‘Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!’
9. ‘If your hand doesn’t fit, you must quit!’
10. ‘Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.’
11. ‘You used to be an executive at Enron, didn’t you?’
12. ‘God, now I know why I am not gay.’
And the best one of all.
13. ‘Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up
there?’