The Office Is Not For Sleeping

When my boss asked me if I wanted to be recruited to the office rather than stay "out in the field" I tried to discourage him saying something like,
"Are you sure? Because I'm a really slow learner and I'm really, really bad with computers. I can't convey to you just how unimpressive I will be at this job."

But somehow he still wanted me, even though I thought it was a really bad idea. He must've been really desperate or maybe he just wanted someone to make him look like a harder worker by comparison. As you can see from the illustration above, I'm prone to sleeping on the desk.

So now I'm an "office chump", I sit on my arse until its numb and drink lots of liquids so I have an excuse to walk across the hall and visit the toilet, my favourite place. I was never asked to wear office attire so I don't, because quite frankly I'm not into suit jackets and ugly shoes. The other day I thought my casual clothes fling was finally up when my boss stopped me, pointed at my shoes and laughed. Gold Onitsuko Tigers, with velcro straps, so maybe not my most subtle pair of shoes. "They're ghetto fabulous!" he yelped, beaming. Now whenever he sees my garish sneakers he gets just a bit happier. Office attire has not since crossed my mind.

Although I am technically working in the office; I have a desk (isolated from everyone else, perhaps for my own good) and a swivel chair, I just don't really feel like I belong. It's like I'm visiting my Dad at work everytime I go in, except my Dad's not there, just a bunch of socially retarded 20-40 somethings who can't make eye contact and decorate their desks with lots of stupid crap.

There's no stupid crap at my desk, in fact there is even less stuff since I've "moved in" because I keep stealing everything. I opened the desk drawers to find a goldmine of stationary, all ripe for the taking. It started as the odd pen or highlighter but now my little habit has morphed into a full blown addiction. I snoop around for anything I can find, suddenly everything looks steal-able, four different types of post-it notes, all sorts of writing implements and one of those things that stamps the date on things. You don't even wanna know how excited I got when I found the postage-paid envelopes. I don't even send letters, I have nothing to send, nothing!

Lunch time is the worst time in the office because all the cubicle zombies come out and wander around. Seeing as I live to avoid these people I usually just make a quick dash for the exit. Sometimes though I bring my lunch in, like every fucking other chump, and I have to wait in the dreaded kitchen line. Two microwaves, many chumps, lots of standing near others under fluorescent kitchen lights and trying not to scratch some lady's eyes out when she heats her soup up for 27 minutes. The lunch table is littered with the daily papers and unfortunately the source of many debates about the the "hot topics" of the day. My desk, only a couple of walls away from the lunch room is subjected to this vocal pollution every lunch hour. Some overweight 45 year old ranting about some sensationalist story to some other macho chump through a mouthful of left overs. Headphones and mp3 are my best friends.

One of the few perks of office life is the free coffee, I had a great system where I would eat like a pig, then sedated into a food coma I would drug myself with caffeine until the energy balance was restored. Apart from the obvious health risks of this routine I was starting to become immune to coffee. While the first week I would be crawling up the walls with caffeine induced efficiency/paranoia/irritability, now a humble double dose leaves me straight. I know, I know drugs are for the weekend but really, anyone who has worked in an office will know, the work is much better approached from an altered state of consciousness. Perhaps I'll get into that glass of wine with lunch thing that grown ups do. These days my coffee mug looks like a pub toilet, stained with the dregs of many a drink.

As if that isn't enough to make you want to staple your face to the notice board, everyday I get group emails abusing me in capitalised red font because someone didn't wash their teaspoon in the kitchen. Often this abuse is in rhyming form, truly horrific. To take my mind off it all I try and exploit their internet connection. Unfortunately but not surprisingly everything is filtered, even Beyond Blue, which I tried to look up shortly before I attempted to cut myself open with a bulldog clip. When I looked up my favourite web toon Cyanide and Happiness I got a nice little blue and white message on the screen "The Websense category "tasteless" is filtered." Ha, well thats right, I am tasteless. I have something for the suggestion box...more cowbell.

Bediquette

There are rules about how to behave in certain situations, for example you wouldn't tear your shirt off, yell "fuck yeah!" and pump your fist in the air at your grandmother's birthday at the RSL. Well depending on what your granny was like I suppose, she might be a feisty little beast.

Sometimes there is a confusing lack of setting-appropriate etiquette. Like sex for example; nobody teaches you whether you are supposed give after receiving or what to do if you fart in someone's face. Well I take that back, Cosmo details lots of bizarre and confusing rules about sex but these are determined by what's in "sex fashion" and these are not to be trusted. Super slut whore may be in vogue one month and demure prude the talk of the town the next.

But why trust Cosmo when you can listen to an unqualified person who has figured out how to publish shit on the internet? That's right, listen up for some reliable bediquette advice...

In my opinion general hygiene such as recent showering and tooth brushing is necessary pre-shag. Unless your sex bunny has surprised you somewhere and pulled your pants off before you can even say "knob cheese".
Too much? Ok that was gross for me too.

Anyway surprise sex is always a risky choice, how do you tell your lover that you wet your pants earlier? Or worse?
It's such a gamble. The safest bet is just to wear a chastity belt until you get home; comfortable and practical.

Getting some to give some? No need really. If everyone subscribed to this view then we would never appreciate when someone was just trying to do something nice for us, we'd be suspiciously eyeing them off the whole time resenting that they were only going down because they wanted us to. So if you want some, a friendly nudge of your partner's head in that general direction should get the message across, although try to avoid pulling tufts of hair out and jarring anyone's neck. That's not going to go down too well is it now?

Hairy questions are perhaps the most sensitive. If you suggest your loved one does some grooming they may well take you for a kiddy fiddler trying to act out your sick fantasies on them, but if you don't say anything in a desperate situation you could end up getting hairs surgically extracted from your throat. Yes that CAN SO happen.
How embarrassing for you both.
General trimming is a good idea for everyone, just be careful getting too adventurous with the scissors cos accidentally swiping those pink bits could have you out of action for a week or two.

Weird fantasies... thats right there's no such thing as a weird fantasy and this should be your response to anything your partner confides in you. Then you can laugh about it later to your friends.
Make sure that before saying yes to any (weird) fantasies you ask yourself, what can I get out of this? Because sex ultimately has to benefit you both otherwise you're just their plaything, which may or may actually get you off anyway. It's good to give new things a go though, after all you don't realise how much you like something until you're off your head on GHB, bound and gagged and hanging from a sex swing. Now that's something everyone can enjoy.
Farting is tricky, either you are either doing it constantly and laughing heartily each time or you're forever holding it in. Some people, mainly men and my female house-mates are fart-happy meaning they revel in and overdo their own gas emissions. This isn't sexy or fun for anyone else and should only be undertaken as a defense/punishment tactic. Farting while making out may be relaxing for you but your sexy friend will not appreciate feeling the vibrations running through their body as they are straddling you. True story.

Vibrations, that reminds me.... if a lady friend is kind enough to introduce you to their vibrator then you are to treat it with the respect it deserves. After all, it can do more than you can. As an ex once said to me sadly "Awwww, I can't oscillate!".
Vibrators do not go in the anus (unless specifically requested) and if you're a guy, then they probably don't go in you either....you're unclean you know. Let her show you how to use it and start on the lowest setting, vibrators these days could run a small car let alone amuse one person, and you don't want her to kick you in the face now do you?

Oh yeah, no kicking in the face in general. And remember ladies, naked men are vulnerable creatures. I can't even put my arm around my boyfriend without him flinching and shielding his goods. I don't blame him though, I often knee him or whack him inadvertently whilst trying to be sexy. Sexy times are then delayed for several minutes during his recovery process. The advertisement below is onto something, once they add crotch plates.



When sharing a bed with someone it is often a constant battle to get your share of the bed and the right coverage to suit individual heating and cooling requirements. Difficulties may arise when someone like myself, a slithery, reptilian, cold sleeper shares a bed with a human blazing ball of fire....or hot sleeper. Cutting the sheets in half is neither wise nor practical and fighting and kicking is not advisable either. Human balls of fire usually lose out when forced to lie beneath a heaving doona. they sweat their little hearts out, then get chills only to suffer emotional damage from comments like "don't clam me clammington!" and pet names like "Lord Clamington".

It is not good bed-iquette to be indecisive about blankets though, you either want them or you don't. It isn't acceptable to keep them curled up under your body just in case you need it later in the night. Sort of like a drowning forest animal clinging to a floating branch. Your cold sleeping reptile partner needs them more than you do.

Neither is it nice bed-iquette to go to bed totally wasted and sweat out/vomit out out all your toxins in the bed. Unless you're both in the same state, then you deserve each other.

Well that's all for now, my wrist is killing me. Take it how you will. Happy loving! And remember, accommodating someone else is hard work and no substitute for your own hand:)