It happens about once a week. I’ll come into work, sit down at my desk and notice that Shaggy has a runny nose. Yes, thats right. Shaggy from Scooby Doo. I have an action figure on my desk. Now, how can a non-biological piece of plastic produce mucus? Well, it can’t. A co-worker puts some lip-goo compound on Shaggy’s nose. The first few times, I calmly wiped Shaggy’s nose. Then next few times I asked the molester to stop messing with things on my desk. The next few times I yelled at the perp. In the end, I just took Shaggy home. This is pretty sad that I can’t have stuff on my desk with out someone putting makeup on it. I’d never mess with stuff on someone else’s desk. But obviously I don’t command enough respect to deserve the same courtesy.
I come in today and catch the perp giving Racer X a runny nose. Now, you just shouldn’t mess with my Racer X action figure. Shaggy is a fool, a nincompoop, an idiot. But Racer X. . . well you just shouldn’t mess with Racer X. So I wacked the bastard’s head and yelled at him. I guess tonight I’ll have to bring Racer X home.
I know this whole thing probably sounds pretty funny, but it really pisses me off. I wouldn’t mind if he was playing with the action figures, but he is desecrating them. Plus, I don’t know what is in that crap and how it will mess with my toys. Now, because he can’t keep his mitts to himself, I have to take home all my cool stuff. No more pokemon, no more Leggo ninjas, no more Racer X. sigh Bastard.