Enough to Belly-Laugh

I hate forwarded e-mails. Hate 'em. Don't care who you are. I hate them, except for what my sister, Kat, sends. She knows what I need and when. And I love a good story. I cannot vouch for it's veracity, only it's effect.

A Bad Day At Work

Rob 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 103.2 on
FM dial in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, who was sponsoring a worst job experience
contest. Needless to say, she won.


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 wetsuit. 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 wetsuit. 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 butt 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 butt was not as fortunate.

When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the
jellyfish into the crack of my butt. 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 poop for two days because my butt 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 butt.

Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job".