It's not my job to run the train.
The whistle I don't blow.
It's not my job to say how far,
the trains supposed to go.
I'm not allowed to pull the brake,
or even ring the bell.
But let the damn thing leave the track,
And see who catches hell!
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It's not my job to run the train.
The whistle I don't blow.
It's not my job to say how far,
the trains supposed to go.
I'm not allowed to pull the brake,
or even ring the bell.
But let the damn thing leave the track,
And see who catches hell!
Then repeat the last line, sing the chorus and on to the next verse.
You shovel up the coal
That gives the railroad trains their power;
And for this the union sees you get $35/hour...
So why does everyone call you a feather-bedding weasel?
Because you know as well as we
The whole damned railroad's DIESEL.
(Shamelessy swiped from an old Mad Magazine issue)
Nice! I kinda remember that one.
No, the reason for the post... I'd just gotten an earful from a user, complaining about her printer and computer issues.
Issues which she said she has reported many times. To another member of the IT staff. But since he was at lunch, I got the earful.
(Incidentally, the "issue" with the printer? Ran out of black toner. Which means the printer is broken. Right.)
^^^ Perpetual motion machine. Get yours NOW for the introductory price of ... ^^^
I must really be old and shut up Carl. Railroad Positions were what we did in high school, on a date, at the drive-in, with the windows all fogged up, in my '52 Chevy..............