More Evidence of Trouble at the Office

I went into the office today, despite all the warning signs I had received the last time I was there. I had been sent clear signals that someone was coming to terminate me, but I foolishly decided that fear would not be my master.

No sooner had I settled into my desk to do some quiet, honest work when I heard an ominous sound. I went out and investigated. I found this souped-up hotrod vehicle parked outside my door.

See how small it is? Powered by gnomes! The blue bag is filled with human heads and offal. The vehicle is on wheels for speed and quick retreats out the freight elevator, and contains a bucket with a soapy substance with which to wash the souls of the dead.

I was scared, but I crept closer. I needed to know my fate, and accept my imminent death with grace and alacrity. I saw this weird hieroglyphic:

It was clear that this depicted a Kung-Fu master destroying a pile of worms. The bottom worm is the loser, because he has been squashed flat by his brethren. But what did it mean for my future as an alive person?

Ah, but then I turned the image on its side, and the horrors became clear. The person was crawling, broken and ruined, from a phalanx of killer worms! The worm at the back was now their master, Stiff-Spine Devil Worm Overlord.

The other view was even worse! The worms, having had done with our hero, have vomited him out into a cruel and uncaring world. This was very ominous. I was downright sick with fear now.

It began to make sense. A homemade bong! They called it GOJO.

And they had weapons, cleverly disguised with misleading titles that could not hide the terror of the words: THICKENED NON-ACID. If you spray THICKENED NON-ACID at me, that is like my personal Kryptonite. Fuck! Fuck again, I shouldn't have revealed that in a public forum. Goddamnit! I am ruined!

 I heard the boom-boom-boom of little footsteps and retired into my office, where I barricaded the door with "Old One-Arm," my lousy office chair that no-one else wanted and I am still convinced that someone switched for my good and decent office chair. I will find you out, ye who gave me "Old One-Arm," and took my thoroughbred beauty for your own personal seating pleasure.

My Glamorous Office in SoHo

Since I have A Very Important and Extremely Glamorous and Sometimes Dangerous job that involves work that is almost strictly online, I don't necessarily need to go into the office every day. I choose to go into the office on the days when I wake up and say, with fortitude: "Today, I shall have no natural light whatsoever, and shall be alternately overheated and chilled to the bone, depending on the floor in which I wander. I shall also be subject to strange, flickering fluorescence, and the sad knowledge that my office is so far from humanity that no one will ever know if I am actually in residence."

It is sad to say that I often do not choose this option. My photographic evidence, below, will make this all perfectly clear.

Working from my home office. Bucolic marvelousness! Note that the house viewed here is not my house. (Why, how could it be if this image is taken from my window? That would be a paradoxical space-time shifty-poo kind of thing!) Nay, my house is the one that causes the neighbors to use the word "scourge" in a complete sentence.

This is the view from my new office in glamorous SoHo, New York City. I think they are trying to send me a message. That message is "MALIGNANT GNOMES ARE GOING TO BURST OUT OF THAT FREIGHT ELEVATOR AND SWARM ALL OVER YOUR SORRY ASS, AND EAT YOU! You have outlived your usefulness. You will now be eliminated."

I found this mysterious hieroglyphic left behind in my new office. I think it was left by space humanoids, or by that one guy who uses emoticons in all his emails? I have studied it carefully but have learned almost nothing, except that the "clusters" are happy. But wait...the whole things reminds me of a system for collecting stool samples! I have latched onto this business with my usual razor-sharp wrongheadedness. Sample DS15 is tainted. Do not say I did not warn you.

If I work for you and you are reading this and are Very Important, I love my job. Love! Love! And I especially like my new cozy office. I also like the fact that, when I opened the boxes that had been packed from the move while I was away on Christmas vacation, I pulled out a pair of greasy men's size XL long underwear that did not belong to me.

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