Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Ignoring Ignorance

At work, I wear KOSS UR-20's that apparently make me look like a DJ. Behold:

These are upon my head 80 to 90 percent of the time because:

1. I like my music hella loud.
2. My neighbors have requested that I turn it down.
3. I must urinate from time to time and I'm too cheap buy a 100 yard cord.
4. I don't like to be bothered while I surf all day long.

Which brings me to my complaint:

I have repeatedly requested that, if someone needs my attention and I am wearing my Koss', they should touch me (ie tap on the shoulder, smack on the head, etc). Instead? They furiously wave or do jumping jacks behind me or knock on the surrounding furniture, cubicle, etc. in hopes that I will notice them in my readview mirrors on my monitor, which of course I don't.

So what if I'm wearing short-shorts that defy the company's dress code? So what if my bare shoulders are always clammy and sticky from sweat? Touch me?

2 comments:

Blog ho said...

my cock's a glock and i'm ready to rock!

Sharon said...

I have no words. You couldn't hear me anyway. Turn your damn music down.

About Me, Not You

I was christened Wannahockaloogy by our tribal leader. He was a bitter old man with throat cancer who believed that, to truly hock a loogie, one must not retrieve the phlegm from the throat, but from the soul. His weakened, delirious state made it easy for me to overthrow him and seize control. Now, I am the chief and I have internet access. Beware, delirious smoking populace. Beware.