Work vs. Prison
Work Vs. Prison

In prison you spend a majority of your time in an 8×10 cell. At work you spend most of your time in a 6×8 cubicle.

In prison you get three meals a day. At work you only get a break for one meal, and you have to pay for that one.

In prison you get time off for good behaviour. At work you get rewarded for good behaviour with more work.

In prison, a guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you. At work you must carry a security card and unlock and open all the doors yourself.

In prison you can watch TV and play games. At work you get fired for watching TV and playing games.

In prison they ball-and-chain you when you go somewhere. At work you’re just ball-and-chained.

In prison you get your own toilet. At work you have to share.

In prison they allow your family and friends to visit. At work you can’t even speak to your family and friends.

In prison all expenses are paid by taxpayers with no work required. At work you get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.

In prison you spend most of your life looking through bars from the inside wanting to get out. At work you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go to bars.

In prison you can join many programs which you can leave at any time. At work there are some programs you can never get out of.

In prison there are sadistic wardens. At work, we have managers.

A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop...
A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a detailed bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner the price. "Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and an extra thousand for the story behind it." "At that price, you can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take the bronze rat." The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every time he passes another sewer, more rats come out and follow him. By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars... following him. Rats by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the waterfront at the bottom of the hill he panics and starts to run full tilt. No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up, squealing hideously now not just thousands but millions, so that by the time he comes racing to the water's edge a trail of rats twelve blocks long is behind him. Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a lamp post, grasping it with one arm, while he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay as far as he can throw it. Pulling his legs up and clinging to the post, he watches in amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater into the sea, where they drown. Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop. "Ah sir, you've come back for the story," says the owner. "No," says the tourist, "I was just hoping you had a bronze sculpture of a lawyer "