"There’s no link between diabetes and diet.
That’s a white myth, Ken, like Larry Bird or Colorado."
-Tracy Jordan, 30 Rock

Monday, June 22, 2009

Very Sad News

Todays news is so sad that I can't even type it. I hope the diagram below conveys how sad I am right now...


Thank you for your understanding during this difficult time.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Zipper Discretion, or Things not to do at Work

As I've mentioned in the past, my bladder is of non-legendary proportions. I have also mentioned that I have roughly 37 seconds of free time in any given day. The combination of these two factors has led to a relatively innocuous home habit behavior that I never gave much thought to until it started up at work.

Here's the pattern: In the door, slap the light, and unzip while walking full speed so that by the time I reach the bowl I am ready to, ahem, uh, tinkle. Sorry, scratch that. I am a great big behemoth of a man. I do NOT tinkle. I, um, go wee wee. Anyway, this preparation en route reduces the process by two seconds or more per bio-break, which spread out over the course of a week leaves me with close to two minutes of free quality time.

Here's the conflict: the work bathroom is a multi-bowl configuration, set up in a U-shape, with the doorway and short hallway on one side of the U, the sinks and paper towels at the U-base, and the bowls and urinal at the other side. This layout means that my zipper is down with still roughly a dozen steps to go before I reach my target.

Now, it is bad enough that I am walking around zipper down in a room that might contain other people, let alone persons potentially in charge of my career. What's worse is that on occasion I come across a coworker coming around the corner. I'm a scary enough looking dude as is, but running into me coming full speed around a corner with a zipper down is a pretty sketchy proposition. The added bonus is that these people are typically coming at me with wet hands and reaching for the waist-height paper towels. Awkward... very, very awkward.

This leads me to a two-part conclusion:
1) I should probably start wearing underwear, and
2) Victoria's Secret is probably not the best choice.