The One Hand Throws The Whiskey, And The Other Throws The Gun

I can hardly take the near-constant stream of Queen coming from Buffalo's desk.

I indulge the kid, too often, because he's the butt of most of the jokes, insults, jibes, and situational comedy that goes on here.

But there's no reason to listen to Janet Jackson, or to watch Duran Duran videos at max volume. There's no reason to whistle along with whatever crappy music you've got playing.

There's certainly no reason to be playing the same two Queen songs over and over and over on a Tuesday morning.

Don't get me wrong, I like Queen as much as the next guy, unless Buffalo is the next guy. There's no reason to play Somebody To Love seventeen times an hour.

The one admonishment we were given during our entrance interview was "The company internet policy, as written, is pretty strict, but we don't really enforce it. Nothing's really blocked. The only thing you absolutely cannot do is stream audio or video. No video."

I'm tempted to narc this kid out. I won't, because it's a prick move. I'll just throw on my iPod and crank the volume up until I can't hear anything anymore ever.

Then I'll go back to catching up on three days worth of reports I don't understand. At lunch I'm going to submit a new resume to monster.

-t

recommended download:
Three Doors Down, Landing In London, or, Father's Son
and, if you simply can't avoid Queen, try It's Late