You know its going to be a bad day ahead when...

You wake up face down on the pavement.

You put your bra on backwards and it fits better.

You call suicide prevention and they put you on hold.

Your birthday cake collapses from the weight of the candles.

You want to put on the clothes you wore home from the party and there aren't any.

You turn on the news and they are showing escape routes out of the city.

Your twin sister forgot your birthday.

You wake up to realize your waterbed broke and then discover you don't have a waterbed.

Your horn goes off accidentally and remains stuck as you follow a group of Hell's Angels on the freeway.

You walk to work and find your dress is stuck in the back of your pantyhose.

You call your answering service and they tell you it's non of your business.

Your blind date turns out to be your ex.

Your income tax check bounces.

You put both contacts in one eye.

Michael is an out of work actor. He can't even get on the news. He goes to his agents office, begging for some work. His agent says "okay Michael, I've got a bit part for you. It's in the Garrick Theatre, and it's a one liner I'm afraid." Michael says this is fine, and discovers that his one line is: "Hark, I hear the cannons roar." So, for the rest of the week, when he's shaving, ironing, watching TV, he's saying his line, "Hark I hear the cannons roar, Hark I hear the cannons roar...". It's the night before his big performance, and he goes out with his friends and gets totally inebriated,and passes out. He wakes up the following day, realises that he has 40 minutes until he's due on stage! So, he's in a fury. He showers as fast as he can, and runs as fast as he can to the theatre. When he gets to the back door, he starts drumming on it and it opens. "Yes, who are you?" "Well I'm Hark I hear the cannons roar" "Holy shit, you'd better get through there pretty damn quick, your on stage in five minutes!" So he runs up to make-up, throws on his costume and rubs makeup all over his face whilst running down to the side of the stage, but he's on the wrong side, so he sprints as fast as he can to the other side and he is literally THROWN onto the stage when theres this sudden almihgty bang, and he jumps back and screams "Oh my god what the fuck was that?!"

Next time you have a bad day at work, think of this guy:

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 Laughline, 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 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 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 5 other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make 3 agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling 35 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 2 days because my butthole 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.

A young man of 18 years becomes a monk in a monastery that requires a vow of silence. He can only speak 2 words every 5 years. At the end of year 5 the head monk calls the kid in and says, "My boy you now can say 2 words." To which the kid replies, "food stinks."

Five more years go by and the head monk says, "My boy you may now say 2 words." The boy says, "bed hard."

At the end of the next 5 years the head monk calls the boy in and says, "You may now say 2 words." The kid says, "I quit." The head monk replies, "I'm not suprised, you've been complaining ever since you got here."

For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know!!! Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?" Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're a jackass!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "jackass," and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a jackass!" It would always cheer me up. Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the jackass. Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?" He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're a jackass!" The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863. [Keep reading, it gets better.] The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking place. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camaro came flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, Buddy. I was here first!" The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, this guy's a jackass, there sure a lot of jackasses in this world. I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park. A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're a jackass!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too. After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said,"Hello." I said, "Is this the man with the black Camaro for sale?" "Yes, it is." "Can you tell me where I can see it?" "Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front." I said, "What's your name?" "My name is Don Hansen." "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" "I'm home in the evenings." "Listen Don, can I tell you something?" "Yes," "Don, you're a jackass!" And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For awhile things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two jackasses to call. Then, after several months of calling the jackasses and harassing them I thought and came up with a solution: First, I had my phone dial Jackass #1. A man answered nicely saying,"Hello." I yelled "You're a jackass!", but I didn't hang up. The jackass said, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "Stop calling me." I said, "No." He said, "What's your name, Pal?" I said, "Don Hansen." He said "Where do you live?" "1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front." "I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers." "Yeah, like I'm really scared, Jackass!" and I hung up. Then I called Jackass #2. He answered, "Hello." I said, "Hello, Jackass!" He said, "If I ever find out who you are..." "You'll what?" "I'll kick your butt." "Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now Jackass!" And I hung up. Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W. 34th Street. After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious! Watching two Jackasses kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life! Name withheld to protect the guilty.