Plan B Addendum

It's obvious my inventive prowess has driven those mice away. Laser Mallet (tm) has been dismantled now that peace has been restored.

Actually... The boss' dollar store mouse traps caught all three of them. Laser Mallet (tm) was dismantled because the mechanics needed the mallet part back. And because they made fun of me...*sob*

It's all good though, I'm going to let the air out of their tires when they aren't looking (not really).

Plan B

The mice have found their way into the lunchroom. No. The mice have found their way into my sugar cubes in the lunchroom. This madness must be stopped.

It took me the better part of the morning to come up with plan B.

Meet Laser Mallet (tm) - the bastard son of a laser pointer and rubber mallet. With its cutting edge laser precision targeting system, ergonomic mallet grip and easy wipe "kill surface," Laser Mallet (tm) will quickly and easily eradicate all rodent (and idiot co-worker) related problems.

It's even got its own theme song (but it doesn't convey well in the written medium).

I'll bet Ron Popiel wishes he invented this.

Alls I need now is some camo paint, a thermos of hot coffee... and an appointment with my therapist...

Baby's First Grey Hair

I was rummaging through my desk drawers earlier today looking for my secret stash of extra large paperclips (the purchasing department rarely orders them - I would imagine they trade like prison cigarettes here) when I happened on something I'd long forgotten. Enshrined in the corner of the side drawer is a single grey hair. A simple testament to fading youth. A metaphor for human impermanence. A reminder that I'm a dumbass who does dumbass things.

Back in 2003, following a series of major server crashes, this hair made its presence well known, contrasted by a sea of dark brown hair. The frightened 23 year old in me pulled it and tucked it away for posterity.

It's now late 2005. The grey hair's back. It's brought friends.

There are little bits of toenail clippings in here too (not mine, of course). I wonder what possible profundity they signify.

Mid-Day Identity Crisis

I've been undergoing somewhat of an identity crisis as of late (not really, I just wanted to throw that in for dramatic effect). See, as an Asian variety male of the species, I really don't have much by way of distinguishing features. Police lineups in Asia must be a logistical nightmare for this reason: "He's the one with dark hair, brown eyes, a jaundiced tan, is good at maths, plays piano and badminton."

What I'm getting at is, looks wise, I am the personification of cardboard. Really hot cardboard. Really hot cardboard that for some reason can't get a date (I blame that on the growing rice chaser movement).

So, today, as a proactive solution, I scotch taped myself a butt crack chin. I took photos but they came out a little vulgar. NSFW vulgar.

I guess I'll remain dateless for a little longer.

Lunch

With the fecal content of my desk rising steadily, it would seem inappropriate to have Triple Chunk Chocolate Brownies in my lunch bag. I only have myself to blame.

I, Consumer Whore

This is the result of my last session of retail therapy.

The girl at Chapters called me a geek for buying this. Thanks for stating the obvious, Chapters girl.

I'm going to regret this when I look at my bank statement in the morning.

Mission: Failed

The chips are gone but there's no mouse. My desk was 95% poop free this morning (it was 100% until I found a little turd hidden in the corner).

You win this round, mouse. (you can't see this but I'm shaking my fist in the air).

Interoffice Memo

To: All Staff
From: Jon Chan
Date: 10/04/05
Re: Computer Problems

As the company's Systems Administrator, I am responsible for maintaining the company network and all associated computers therein. It is not within the parameters of my job description to help with your personal computer issues.

My cel-phone number on the emergency contact sheet is not intended as an off hours tech support line. I do not have any interest in receiving five or six calls regarding your lost MSN password. Furthermore, my lunch hours do not fit under the "tech time with Jon Chan" category. I cannot repair your computers just because you bring them into my office.

To reiterate in layman's terms, I am not your bitch. Please find someone else to fill that role.

Good Day.
Jon Chan
Systems Administrator

Wow. That was quite cathartic.

The Trap's Set

You can't see it but rest assured, there's bait in the bucket (Lays BBQ Chips...MMM).

Einstein's got nothing on me.

There's poop on my desk!

The boss parked his camper in the North Bay warehouse over the weekend and brought some field mice along for company. They've extended their stay and have decided to use my desk as their personal toilet. Funnily enough, none of the other desks were hit. The hypochondriac in me is a little worried to say the least.

I thought they couldn't top the crotch hair from a couple of weeks back but they really upped the ante on this one.

Fig. 1 - The initial finding

Fig. 2 - It looks like he was dragging his ass on the desk while doing this one

Fig. 3 - The culprit