The blinking light outside my office is telling me to kill someone.

The light in the hallway outside my office is blinking. Constantly. I think it’s blinking something in Morse code. I swear it’s telling me to kill someone. I’m having trouble making out whom, though.

I called the receptionist so she could have building maintenance come and replace the bulb. That was over an hour and a half ago. Maybe the light wants me to kill the maintenance dude when he gets here.

Why don’t you just close your door, you daft broad? Well, I could, but then I’d appear inaccessible. We can’t have that, now can we? The attorneys are all getting new Blackberries. They’re sweet, by the way. I have, well, had, one (that’s a whole other story). It has integrated phone, wireless email and Internet access features. They (the attorneys, not the Blackberries) keep popping in and asking me inane questions. Questions they could answer if they just read the fucking memos that were sent to them. Questions they could answer if they just applied higher brain function for a few minutes. Questions I really could not care any less about answering but, well, seeing has how the pay me quite handsomely here, I have to pretend to care about and, subsequently, answer.

The light keeps blinking, blinking, blinking. It’s telling me to either kill the next attorney who pops in and asks if they can configure the new Blackberry to blow them at two-hour intervals or kill the maintenance man (after he changes the bulb, of course).

Take out the bulb? Close the door and then explain why to people when they come to see you?

Maybe you could coordinate your eye blinks with the light. Then you’d never notice. Otherwise you’re going to be foaming at the mouth and spinning in circles a la The Andromeda Strain and then they’ll take your jammin’ Blackberry away.

–. … …- . / … -. / .— …- .- -. … - .- / -.- … .-… .-… / . …- . .-. -.-- -… — -… -.–

Maybe your office has installed Talking Lights.

Before you embark on your slayfest, it’s important to remember this catchphrase:

Kill youself and kill others–but kill others first!

I know it seems simple, but you’d be surprised how many people botch it.

Let’s see… you live in Baltimore, I live in Baltimore. You want to kill, I don’t want to die…
HEY DAD!! Set another place for me tonight!! I’m comin’ to visit you for a while!!!


Wait, you live in Baltimore and don’t want to die? Dude, you live in Baltimore.

Blinking lights cause rampage? My advice is consult either your X-Files Handbook: On Sensient Technologies or your Macgyver How-to-Guide: To Make Blinking Lights Say Nice Things.

Hey! It could be Pittsburgh. Gotta look on the bright side… :wink:

Ok, so the : is prolly to not in the right places.

And, “prolly to not”, is not very good either. I should refrain from posting or proofread, sorry.

::pops in::

Hey Juanita, how can I configure the new Blackberry to blow me at two-hour intervals?
Don’t kill me - I’m not a lawyer!

I just want to be a ‘satisfied customer’!! :smiley:

I hear ya JT. There is a plotter outside my cube that developed a “fingernail on the chalk board” squeel when it printed. (We print scads of drawings daily) It took two day to get it fixed. By the end of the first day I know it was saying to me, “Go home and clean the gun…”

.-- — --- … — --- / .–. .- -.-. -.- . .-. … / .-- … -. / - … . / … …- .–. . .-. -… — .-- .-… / .–. .- -.-. -.- . .-. …

…and what the hell’s wrong with Pittsburgh?


How is it blinking? Is it a flourescent bulb? Did you try hitting it? Does it make an irritating buzzing noise?

You know, this is how some alien-contact stories start…


It’s up too high for me to remove it.

RTFirefly, I can help you with that but first I’ll need directions to your office. You don’t wear a bullet-proof vest, do you?

DaToad, I’ll take the blinking light o’ death to your plotter any day.

In addition to the numerous inane Blackberry questions, now people walk by and ask me if the blinking light is annoying me.

They all must die!!!

Everyone has an “Automatic Fluorescent Turner Offer Thinger” in their office. Just look around. Maybe a stuffed basketball or a nerf football with the companies logo on it?

Now… casuallly walk out into the hallway untill you are directly under the light. Warm up a bit. A couple tosses in the air to judge the wind velocity and such. The goal here is just to tap the fixture or cover. You do not want to have the ball imbedded in the fixture with fluorescent goo and shards of glass raining down on you. Of course if it does explode, and you get the ball back, you are cool as well. “It just exploded, didn’t I mention it was blinking earlier?”

Juanitatech, while I feel for you, if anyone sees you climbing into the trunk of an LTD with an AR-15 with sniperscope, I hope they tackle you before you get to a gas station.

Even if I’m just going to shoot the maintenance fuck who should have changed the lightbulb by now and a few annoying attorneys?