Not My Desk plans to return on Monday, September 24.
In addition to this being a time of horror, sadness, and no small amount of anger, it is also a time of uncertainty. We'd all like to get back to normal, but there is a certain guilt in reverting to day-to-day business when so many lives have been lost, so many innocents are unaccounted for, and so many people are mourning, not to mention that the definition of 'normal' has most certainly been forever altered. There is the feeling that many, many things have changed, not just in the United States, but around the world.
Still, in the U.S., sporting events are scheduled to start again this week. Commercial airline travel has resumed. The stock markets are opening. The sales of Spencer Johnson's books continue (unfortunately). People are beginning to go about their business as they always have. Things are becoming as normal as they can.
Not My Desk would like to do the same.
Therefore, when this site returns, you will find, as always, that:
The word "poop" will still be used with alarming frequency, along with words like "winky", "dingle", "frogurt", and "humping". Some new words, like "fartingly", will be made up on the spot and put into action at a moment's notice.
The annoying traits, body odor, and general stupidity of co-workers will continue to be discussed with frankness, callousness, and wonder. And God help you, co-workers, if you're funny-looking.
The constant theft of office supplies, AA batteries, and loose change from desk drawers at this writer's temp jobs will continue, unabated, if not increased to as yet unheard of levels. This is a time of need, after all, and I need mechanical pencils and quarters for laundry.
The picture of an apparently nude woman, her face contorted and tongue extended, will be displayed long after everyone has grown tired of it, because, frankly, the creator of this website has a weird fixation with it.
The site's most popular features, Vision of the Future and Henchman of the Week, will continue to be completely and utterly ignored by the site's creator. Have no doubts about this. These features will never be updated. If you need something solid and unwavering to cling to, cling to this. You can count on it, I promise.
Christina Ricci's breasts will be discussed longingly, admired greatly, and possibly interviewed.
The comparison of the consistency of this writer's body to partially cooked pasta will still be made, along with general comments about the grotesque and disproportionate size of his head, the fact that he has the social skills of a tin of sardines, and the realization that he has about as much chance of picking up a chick as Eddie Deezen has of picking up a Dodge Durango.
Faithful readers, whose only crime was taking time out of their busy days to send e-mail to this site, will be ruthlessly mocked.
The site's archives will remain un-searchable and difficult to navigate.
Infant children of co-workers will not be regarded as "cute" at any time, nor will their excretions be found interesting. And no, I don't want to hold them. Thanks.
The rules of grammar will be ignored, run-on sentences will be celebrated, and confusing combinations of words will be featured as much as humanly gnat apple container oblong fartingly.
Old Asian men will be mocked, for the simple fact that they are old and Asian.
And finally, this writer's temp jobs will continue to suck, and suck hard. Oddly enough, this guarantee is something to find comfort in.
Yes, on September 11, some things changed, not just in New York, or Washington, or even the United States of America, but everywhere. Some things changed, and changed forever.
Some things, however, never can change. They never can, never should, and never will.
Good luck. God bless. And poop. Poop, poop, poop.
See you next week.