There is a factory in Northern Minnesota that makes the Tickle Me Elmo toys. The toy laughs when you tickle it under the arms.

Well, Lena is hired at The Tickle Me Elmo factory and she reports for her first day promptly at 8:00 AM. The next day at 8:45 AM there is a knock at the Personnel Manager’s door.

The Foreman throws open the door and begins to rant about the new employee. He complains that she is incredibly slow and the whole line is backing up, putting the entire production line behind schedule.

The Personnel Manager decides he should see this for himself, so the 2 men march down to the factory floor. When they get there the line is so backed up that there are Tickle Me Elmo’s all over the factory floor and they’re really beginning to pile up. At the end of the line stands Lena surrounded by mountains of Tickle Me Elmo’s. She has a roll of plush red fabric and a huge bag of small marbles.

The two men watch in amazement as she cuts a little piece of fabric, wraps it around two marbles and begins to carefully sew the little package between Elmo’s legs.

The Personnel Manager bursts into laughter. After several minutes of hysterics he pulls himself together and approaches Lena. “I’m sorry,” he says to her, barely able to keep a straight face, “but I think you misunderstood the instructions I gave you yesterday…”

“Your job is to give Elmo two test tickles.”

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.”

Now whenever you have a bad day, ask yourself, “Is this a jellyfish
bad day?”

- Robby