• Snailpope@lemmy.world
    2·
    3 months ago

    My foreman would always say “Love my job” in a happy tone after anything bad happened on a job site. The happier the tone, the worse it was

  • MonkeMischief@lemmy.today
    0·
    3 months ago

    One time I was in a really run-down thrift store looking for anything neat that stood out. A random guy asked how I was doing and y’know, I tried to be genuine enough, but in return he gave what is now one of my favorite replies:

    “Too blessed t’be stressed!”

    The delivery of it was like he actually meant it. Like he was just enjoying his day lookin’ at stuff and nothing could bother him.

    It’s a good outlook, y’know… especially because at the time I was in a miserable job and often used the “Been better” and “I’m here.” Responses because I just didn’t have much else in me.

    • AnarchistArtificer@slrpnk.netEnglish
      1·
      3 months ago

      I love stories like this because it makes me reflect on random people I’ve seen who have stuck in my memory for years who probably never noticed me. Makes me wonder if anyone remembers me for something random like this

      • MonkeMischief@lemmy.today
        2·
        3 months ago

        Makes me wonder if anyone remembers me for something random like this.

        In a wild turn of events, I was going through my replies and remembered you from a future comment, for kindly encouraging me when I described my ADHD struggle with keeping my comments brief online!

        So, I guarantee I’m not the only one who remembers you for a good word. :)

      • AngryCommieKender@lemmy.world
        0·
        3 months ago

        Boss makes a dollar,

        I make a dime,

        That was a poem,

        For a simpler time.

        Now the boss makes a hundred,

        And the workers a cent,

        While he has employees,

        Who can’t pay their rent.

        Why wait till the boss makes a million,

        And the workers make jack?

        It’s high time we riot,

        And take our world back.

        • intensely_human@lemm.ee
          0·
          3 months ago

          The traffic light simply would not turn green
          So the people stopped to wait
          As the traffic rolled and the wind blew cold
          And the hour grew dark and late

          Zoom-varoom, trucks, trailers,
          Bikes and limousines,
          Clatterin’ by — me oh my!
          Won’t that light turn green?

          But the days turned weeks, and the weeks turned months
          And there on the corner they stood,
          Twiddlin’ their thumbs till the changin’ comes
          The way good people should.

          And if you walk by that corner now,
          You may think it’s rather strange
          To see them there as they hopefully gaze
          With the very same smile on their very same face
          As they patiently stand in the very same place
          And wait for the light to change.