#humor

Posts mentioning hashtag #humor

Below are all the posts — topics as well as replies — that mention the hashtag #humor.

Mention #humor in your post to continue the discussion!

Survival Mode Activated

Day 1,342 in the corporate wasteland.

Communication are ghostly whispers in the dark, never reaching the frontline.

Leadership? Vanished. We wander through endless corridors with no map, no guidance, only the echo of “figure it out.”

Attrition isn’t natural here, it’s engineered. Colleagues disappear one by one, not from monsters, but from policies designed to push them out. The older survivors are the first to be hunted, marked as “obsolete” by forces we can’t fight.

Every meeting feels like a boss battle with no we-pons. Every email is a trap. The objective isn’t growth, it’s endurance. And the only reward for surviving another day? Watching the next teammate fall.

BNY Mellon isn’t a workplace. It’s a horror game where the odds are stacked, the exits are sealed, and the players are expendable.

Press X to try and escape… if you still can.


Twas The Night Before RIF'mas - A Verizon Special Presentation

'Twas the night before RIF’mas, when all through Basking Ridge
Not a creature was stirring, not even Dan the Smidge;
The severance packages were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that HR soon would be there;

The plebs were nestled all snug in their cubicles,
While visions of VSP’s danced in their heads;
And Hans in his chefs hat, and the board he tapped,
Had just settled down for a long golden parachute victory lap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the br---t of the new 5 ghee
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects in front of me,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Shankar the gutless leader.

"Now, Sampath! now, Berland and Epps!
On, Hammock! on Paasche! on, Sharpe and Skiadas!
To the top of the stock options! to the top of the culture toxin!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the Webex
A meeting invite for me and no one else.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
On the call my supervisor and HR came with a bound.

They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
And filled out all the severance paperwork; then turned with a je-k,

They sprang to their feet, and gave a look,
And away they all flew the town like a crook
But I heard them exclaim, ere they ran out of sight,
HAPPY RIF’mas TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!


Hold Your Fire!

Well folks, it’s been a wild week out here on the range. Rumors gallopin’ faster than a spooked jackrabbit, whispers in every cubicle corral, and folks hidin’ under their desks like coyotes in a hailstorm. But today, I bring word straight from the top bunkhouse—The Ranch Boss himself has spoken.

That’s right: a ceasefire has been declared.

All units, stand down. Pack up your spreadsheets, holster your resume blasters, and step away from the LinkedIn feed. The L48 front has gone quiet—no more surprise ambushes, no more “urgent invites” from HR at high noon. The dust is settlin’, and the Ranch Boss says, “That’s enough shootin’ for one season.”

Now, I ain’t sayin’ the fence line’s fixed or the water trough’s full—there’s still a few loose boards out there, and some of y’all are lookin’ at each other like, “You sure this ain’t a trick?” But as of now, the official word is:
👉 It’s over.
👉 Everyone can holster their nerves.
👉 The L48 herd’s intact… for now.

So take a deep breath, pour yourself a strong cup of office coffee (the kind that tastes like it’s been sittin’ on the burner since the Eagle Ford days), and give thanks that your badge still scans.

This ol’ cowdog’s off to patrol the breakroom—heard there’s a fresh box of donuts, and if anyone thinks they can outmaneuver me for the maple bar, well, they’ve got another thing comin’.

Stay vigilant, stay humble, and above all, stay employed.
— Hank, Head of Ranch Security (L48 Division)


The Seven Species of LinkedIn

Log into LinkedIn and decide which of these apply to your colleagues.
The drum beaters are growing by the day.

A field guide for the modern professional jungle. Bring your coffee and your sense of irony.

The Drum Beater
“Achievement unlocked: updated my email signature.”
Celebrates everything — from finishing a webinar to surviving Monday. If self-promotion were cardio, this one would be marathon-ready.

The “Humbled” Achiever
“So humbled to announce that I’m basically amazing.”
Masters the ancient art of bragging while pretending not to. Their posts start with false modesty and end with 1,200 likes.

The Thought Leader
“Innovation is just passion wearing a tie.”
Part philosopher, part buzzword generator. Communicates exclusively in abstract nouns — synergy, authenticity, disruption — as if they’re paid by the syllable.

The Motivational Evangelist
“I spilled coffee on myself — and learned a valuable lesson about leadership.”
Turns every life event into an inspirational parable. A broken laptop? A metaphor for resilience. A delayed flight? Proof that patience is a skill set.

The Corporate Citizen
“Proud to be part of a company that’s making the world slightly better — at least in our press release.”
Their posts are indistinguishable from the HR department’s. They clap for every culture initiative like it’s the Super Bowl halftime show.

The Sycophant
“Brilliant insight, boss! (Please notice me.)”
The algorithm’s most loyal servant. Likes, comments, and reposts with the precision of a political campaign. Never misses a chance to congratulate management for “inspiring leadership.”

The Silent Lurker
“Just here for the sociology experiment.”
Never posts. Never likes. Knows everyone’s promotion history and engagement stats by heart. The digital equivalent of the person at a party who stands by the snack table quietly judging everyone.


LinkedIn Archetypes

The Seven Species of LinkedIn

A field guide for the modern professional jungle. Bring your coffee and your sense of irony.

  1. The Drum Beater

“Achievement unlocked: updated my email signature.”
Celebrates everything — from finishing a webinar to surviving Monday. If self-promotion were cardio, this one would be marathon-ready.

  1. The “Humbled” Achiever

“So humbled to announce that I’m basically amazing.”
Masters the ancient art of bragging while pretending not to. Their posts start with false modesty and end with 1,200 likes.

  1. The Thought Leader

“Innovation is just passion wearing a tie.”
Part philosopher, part buzzword generator. Communicates exclusively in abstract nouns — synergy, authenticity, disruption — as if they’re paid by the syllable.

  1. The Motivational Evangelist

“I spilled coffee on myself — and learned a valuable lesson about leadership.”
Turns every life event into an inspirational parable. A broken laptop? A metaphor for resilience. A delayed flight? Proof that patience is a skill set.

  1. The Corporate Citizen

“Proud to be part of a company that’s making the world slightly better — at least in our press release.”
Their posts are indistinguishable from the HR department’s. They clap for every culture initiative like it’s the Super Bowl halftime show.

  1. The Sycophant

“Brilliant insight, boss! (Please notice me.)”
The algorithm’s most loyal servant. Likes, comments, and reposts with the precision of a political campaign. Never misses a chance to congratulate management for “inspiring leadership.”

  1. The Silent Lurker

“Just here for the sociology experiment.”
Never posts. Never likes. Knows everyone’s promotion history and engagement stats by heart. The digital equivalent of the person at a party who stands by the snack table quietly judging everyone.


Fiddelke

Resorting to low attacks bc why not, but did we think we’d be safe when the incoming CEO can’t even tell the abomination that is his horrible balding pattern? Targets doomed if the incoming CEO can’t even see the problems directly in front of him.