Sick Calls

Do you have employees? I do. And guess what? They’re dysfunctional as a crackhouse. Let me explain.

Luke, I'm your father. Trust me, I don't always dress in leather and freaky costumes. Only when I'm horny. So Luke, join me on the darkside.

Sick calls. I hate fucking sick calls. They’re excuses to avoid working, plain and simple. Unless it involves children being sick or someone dying, then guess what, S.D. is fucking sympathetic.

Me, too. My thoughts are with you, but bear with me, I have a short term memory.

My sick call today went as follows:

Employee: I pooped my pants. I won’t be in ’til later.

Had you came to work, motherfucker, I would've made you wear this, just for shitting yourself silly.

I get a lot of sick calls about cramps. I’m bleeding, I can’t come to work today! Bitch, you work at a fucking hospital! If I need to break out the crash cart and haul you to the ER, then fuck it, get your ass to work!

Someone's definitely wishing they got their period in here...

Bottom line. If you’re going to call in sick to work, make it sound fucking halfway plausible.  “I pooped my pants” just sounds like a fetish. Forty-year-olds do not shit their pants and call into work. They just don’t. It’s wonder termination follows close behind the actions.