You touch you mom with that hand?
Work again was knawing at the back of my head, projects stacking up like that infernal Jenga game. The risk taker i am i pull the bottom outer block and close my eyes. My work day crashed uncontrollably, allegations flying, fingers pointing and excuses in more abundance that babies at a Rabbit convention in spring. I never claimed to be a fortunate man.
That's it, i need a break, some solice before i strip down to my boxers, climb atop the cubical walls and hunt my co-workers with makeshift Bolas fashioned from Cat 5 cable and thoes soft foam stress balls. Yea you got it, i hang in the shadows of burnt out florecent lights picking out all thoes people who think the network color printer is their own personal Kinkos. Leaving me as the underpaid minimum wage monkey clearing their paper jams.
** I am Shaun's loathing of human contact **
Sorry for the tangent. Anyway, i go to the only place i can be comfortable the men's room. Didn't you guess it? The men's room is like a special club, complete with it's own secret handshake. ;) In the men's room you can be yourself. People don't size you up, put on facades. There are certain fact's you must face while you are there though. Every man passes gas while at the urinal, it's just accepted.
For instance:
Man A Leaves cubical B going 1.76 mph down Hallway Z to said Mens Room Q. Man A approaches urinal at 1:38 EST. Man C already at urinal E enters conversation G with Man A. Man A winded from Distance Z - B * 1.76 mph passes gas ** I am Shauns contempt for word problems **. How long is the pause in A and C's conversation?
ANSWER:
0, all men fart at the urinal
Anyway i am standing and releasing all my built up stress, OH and about 64 oz of Mt. Dew. The guy next to me is what i like to call a Urinal Rainman. He won't talk or even react, just staring forward at the soothing white tiles, probably muttering, "Woppner at 4:30, Gotta se woppner". So he Pee's and imitates a OCD laiden nut job. To each their own. But, my point. Yes there is a reason for the rambling.
His cell phone ring's, during his secret handshake. At this point i am at the sink, as the gem i am i go to the end to leave him room. After he finishes he answers the phone and leaves tha mens room. NO WASHING OF HANDS!!! LIVID.
He walked around all day, meeting and greeting. Basically saying, "Try my secret handshake". Nobody wants to shake his pants. People like that make me want to vomit, except im not that self centered.
** I am Shauns complete cleanliness **
That's it, i need a break, some solice before i strip down to my boxers, climb atop the cubical walls and hunt my co-workers with makeshift Bolas fashioned from Cat 5 cable and thoes soft foam stress balls. Yea you got it, i hang in the shadows of burnt out florecent lights picking out all thoes people who think the network color printer is their own personal Kinkos. Leaving me as the underpaid minimum wage monkey clearing their paper jams.
** I am Shaun's loathing of human contact **
Sorry for the tangent. Anyway, i go to the only place i can be comfortable the men's room. Didn't you guess it? The men's room is like a special club, complete with it's own secret handshake. ;) In the men's room you can be yourself. People don't size you up, put on facades. There are certain fact's you must face while you are there though. Every man passes gas while at the urinal, it's just accepted.
For instance:
Man A Leaves cubical B going 1.76 mph down Hallway Z to said Mens Room Q. Man A approaches urinal at 1:38 EST. Man C already at urinal E enters conversation G with Man A. Man A winded from Distance Z - B * 1.76 mph passes gas ** I am Shauns contempt for word problems **. How long is the pause in A and C's conversation?
ANSWER:
0, all men fart at the urinal
Anyway i am standing and releasing all my built up stress, OH and about 64 oz of Mt. Dew. The guy next to me is what i like to call a Urinal Rainman. He won't talk or even react, just staring forward at the soothing white tiles, probably muttering, "Woppner at 4:30, Gotta se woppner". So he Pee's and imitates a OCD laiden nut job. To each their own. But, my point. Yes there is a reason for the rambling.
His cell phone ring's, during his secret handshake. At this point i am at the sink, as the gem i am i go to the end to leave him room. After he finishes he answers the phone and leaves tha mens room. NO WASHING OF HANDS!!! LIVID.
He walked around all day, meeting and greeting. Basically saying, "Try my secret handshake". Nobody wants to shake his pants. People like that make me want to vomit, except im not that self centered.
** I am Shauns complete cleanliness **