I cracked myself up today at work.
We got a message from HO in the UK asking us to delete some incomplete addresses in our customer database - they had sent brohures out, and some had been returned. My colleague noted that they were silly enough to send them out without checking the addresses first.
So this week's experiment was to change one of the addresses to "Mir Space Station", postcode "Space" and see if they would notice. I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, at the thought of the look on the faces of those humourless French girls at HO receiving a brochure, Returned To Sender, that they attempted to send into space. Oh my god I'm cracking up right now.
But alas, I was advised to change it. My colleague and I were discussing what would happen to me when the humourless French ladies in HO discovered my transgression. I would either 'get the sack' (not completely unlikely, if you have ever experienced their unique brand of humourlessness) or never get promoted. As we had this conversation, my boss walked in and enquired as to what we were discussing, so I confessed, and she strongly advised that I change it. So, before I did, I printed out the entry, and have glued it into the inside cover of the front desk diary, for future giggles.  ¶ 19:40