Monday, October 17, 2005

Grump

I only have time to bellyache for this one moment:

May God hurl his sizzlingest, sharpest, pointiest lightening-bolt at people who purposelessly whistle. I mean whistle while they are walking around somewhere, say, like an office.

Like my office.

I work with far too many of these perpetrators of misplaced merriment (or, more truthfully, misplaced social discomfort)--and, yes, two is too freaking many.

The air here is waaaaay too frequently thick with poorly-aspirated, off-key, random notes that never, ever form even a semblance of a song, only the jagged migraine strains of a melody of pure futility.

To quote Bill the Cat (who was incapable of whistling): Ack-thpppt.

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