Tired of working with clowns? Unless you are employed by the circus, your answer would be "Of course, I am. What kind of dumb ass question is that?"
What if I told you that there can be some relief to your situation? "I am intrigued. Keep going."
What if there was a way to tell that idiot they are a clown without them knowing it was you? "An anonymous email? A flaming bag of dog crap in their cube?"
No. Simply place a clown doll on their keyboard after work. When they come in the next day, they will be confronted by what they truly are. "What if they say, 'How cute, a clown' and smile?"
Even if they do appear calm and collected on the outside, inside they are trembling in Gacy induced fear. You may even induce a breakdown right there on the spot. Your moronic coworker babbling insanely with some recovered memory of a childhood birthday party gone horribly wrong. If nothing else, they will have to think to themselves, "Who would give me a clown and why?" This alone will be enough to keep the hamster in their skull turning at double time for the rest of the day.
"Ok, I am willing to try this out. However, I work with a lot of clowns. Where can I get that many?"
I am glad you asked. What if I told you that you could get a bag of 41 clowns and help a worthy cause at the same time? "Please tell me!"
Yes, I know I have been pimping shopgoodwill.com alot lately. They are a great organization. I have bought stuff from this site and wish you would as well. They also provide a wealth of material. Where else can you buy a bag of clowns?
I have found it helpful to do the stretching exercises my physical therapist recommends. Do some core strengthening exercises, such as the ones highlighted at The Mayo Clinic. By keeping your core strong, your back won't put itself in a position to cause that sciatica pain you are having.
"To say my country, right or wrong, is something no patriot would say except in dire emergency; it is like saying, 'my mother, drunk or sober.'" - G.K. Chesterton
You were sick, but now you're well again, and there's work to do.
I am all hopped up on goofballs. Powered by Blogger Pro!
"... I was walking home one night and a guy hammering on a roof called me a
paranoid little weirdo... in morse code..."