I had somewhat of an embarrassing situation yesterday morning.

During shift turnover, the supervisor I was relieving unexpectedly came into the office.  I didn’t see her coming.  Had I seen her coming, I would not have unleashed the violent gaseous storm that had been brewing in my gut since the previous night.

Unfortunately for her, I let ‘er rip mere seconds before she walked in.  She was taken by suprise as she entered the room.  She stumbled a bit, became a little loopy and her eyes began to water.  She covered her mouth and nose and let out a groan.  She stuttered as she tried to go over the turnover log with me.  I felt a little sorry for her.  I am used to the horrendous smell.  I’ve wilted flowers with my farts and this one was no exception.

She completed the turnover and then staggered out of the room like a drunken lemur.  I hope her drive home was safe.


How many ‘business’ or ‘free’ t-shirts do you have?  I’m a t-shirt freak … I like a good t-shirt, but what really beats me down are the useless t-shirts I get from my company and vendors.  Maybe if I were still a poor college student I’d be less cynical about free useless t-shirts, but now that I’m in the six digit range, I care nothing for these pathetic shirts.

Occasionally I will get a worthy t-shirt and it will remain in my weekend rotation for months.  But the vast majority of these t-shirts are pure hud.  For example, the latest t-shirt I got from my company looks like a cheap United Way campaign shirt … it’s a little darker than powder blue and has red and yellow lettering.  The colors aren’t so bad, but the words the designer chose are dill-weed words … ‘mind’ ‘attitude’ ‘ability’ ‘fitness challenge’ ‘team’.  I can see someone with the intelligence of a 4-year-old wearing it, but not an adult.

An adult might wear this shirt if he were part of a team activity and he could wear it over another t-shirt.  Then, the moment the team activity ended, he could immediatly rip it off and trash it.  It’s the herd mentality … we don’t mind looking like idiots as a herd, but there’s no way in hell we’d be caught wearing one of these t-shirts on our own.  You’d be a zebra separated from the herd, hunted down by a lioness and finished off by a lion.

And so this latest retarded t-shirt may make its way to my closet and if it does, it will endure days of solitude in a corner … forgotten, useless.  Then one day, I’d clean out my closet and I’d need something with which to dust useful stuff.  The useless would finally have a use.  Once used, the shirt would be tossed with the rest of the junk or sent to a charitable donation center.

Eventually it will make its way to Central America where one day it will be sported by an 8-year-old Guatemalan girl who will use it as a dress.  Someday I may see this shirt again on a “Save the Children” TV commercial.  And finally a shirt that served no real purpose in its entire life will now have a legitimate reason to exist.

Some of the profoundest questions are asked while in a bathroom.

Today, while relieving myself in the men’s restroom at work, I noticed the wall in front of me and the one to the side were speckled with dead boogers.  The profound question: How in the hell did those get there?

I can fathom how boogers died on the wall to the left of me … some redneck was wizzing, reached up with one of his hands, placed it on his right nostril and blew like the March wind.  The velocity of the booger would have killed it on impact, splattering its guts all over the wall.  But how about those dead boogers on the wall in front of me?

Did the urinator toss his head back as far as it could go, place a finger on one nostril and blow?  Wouldn’t he miss the urinal and splatter on himself?  Look at me … I’m worrying about a “civilized” human leaking on himself in an attempt to blow a booger on the wall.

Now to the more profound question: are there people who are completely unaware of tissue paper?  Has the thought ever occured in their Cro-Magnon heads that toilet paper has more than one use?  Well, perhaps they don’t use toilet paper … eeeww!

Alas, the reality of the situation is that there probably exists a booger caper in our building.  The crime does not involved robbery of material possession, rather dignity.  You see, dead boogers are not only showing up in the men’s bathrooms, but they also litter the walls of the stairwell; the walls of our conference rooms and hallways.  Somewhere in the dark and lonely parts of our building exists a criminal who intentially spreads disease and sickness throughout our corridors when no one is watching.

What has our society come to?  This and other questions sometimes keep me awake at night.

There is a man here at work who is just raw.  He is jittery, jumpy and seems like he could go ballistic at any moment.  If I were to predict who of all the employees would be the first to flip and either have an emotional melt-down or go postal, Mr. Caffeine would be numero uno on my list.

His name is Frank.  Because Frank drinks a gallon of coffee and three Monster drinks a day, he is very entertaining to watch.  One day, one of my collegues walked in Frank’s office.  Frank was intensly focused on reading an email.  My collegue decided to drop a dictionary on the floor of Frank’s hardwood floor.  Instantaneously, Frank threw his arms over his head and dropped to the floor as if he were being fired upon.

Frank has no tact.  He is raw.  A normal person who gets 7 hours of sleep might ask for a status update on an item thusly, “Hey Sam!  How ya doin’?”  Sam would respond accordingly.  “When you get a minute, could you please send me an update on the first phase of the project?”

Frank, on the other hand, would curtly and directly demand that Sam give him the update.  “Sam, I need the damn update yesterday!”

Frank is indeed Full Throttle