What Happens Under the Desk, Stays Under the Desk. Oh Wait, No it Doesn't.

Teetering ever-closer to the verge of disobeying the first Dooce commandment, I have decided that attempting to continue fighting the urge to share the latest office shenanigans is contributing to already clinically unhealthy levels of boredom.

I swear, yesterday, it was 3:08pm for at least 45 minutes.
That was one long, badass minute.

Anyway, remember the funny photo of the little boy who got his head wedged in the school chair last week? Isn't it amazing that someone could be that curious and/or stupid? Well, you'll never believe what I saw when I looked down between my legs yesterday.

Those (read: both) of you out there who know me, not those who "virtually" know me (read: stalk and annoy), can appreciate that the former sentence will never again be accompanied by a photograph.

(Shane wedged under cubes)