The Creepiness Factor

The intricacies of the workplace are quite interesting. What makes the office so dynamic is its people. No doubt you've seen the pitches from your boss, your boss's boss, or the guy who watches you while you pee. “Without you, we'd be nothing.” I especially enjoy the sincerity(and the hint of sexiness) in that statement when the guy who watches me pee says it.

I firmly, and unequivocally, believe this is a huge lie. Now as I just said, the workplace has intricacies, and these intricacies are the direct result of the people in the workplace, but these people...how should I put this? Are fucking WEIRD.

In my office....erm...workstation...ahem...cubicle...*cough* ok FINE! In my corner of the floor, we have a rather sizeable contingent of rapists, as first noted by another coworker.

This group, to me, are the Planeteers. There is one, though. One stands out above them all. And he...is...CAPTAIN PLANET!

Now I must give just a little insight into this guy, so lets call him, oh, I don't know, CAPTAIN MOTHERFUCKING PLANET! Captain Motherfucking Planet once walked up to the urinal next to me and exhaled in a manner that sounded as if he'd just blown his load. But it wouldn't even be an appropriate sound for blowing a load into a partner. This is the kind of ejaculation that would only be appropriate for when you are at home, and are also 100% positive that your neighbors are in the Bahamas. No one should ever hear this sound of satisfaction. But I did. The worst part, though, is that he repeated. Throughout approximately 20 seconds of urination, Captain Motherfucking Planet exhaled in this manner 4 times. And I also don't know who it was that told him ascots and halfway unbuttoned shirts are in style, but I'd like to shake their hand.

Upon further research, I have been able to confirm that these men, the Planeteers, have in fact been spotted at costume parties hosted by area fraternities, dressed as none other than “that creepy ass guy in the office who looks like a rapist.” (These men aren't the cream of the crop when it comes to creating original costumes.) Naturally, when you have what, to a frat douche, looks like an ingenious costume, you will win the costume contest. We all know what comes next. The guy who wins the costume contest always gets the ladies. Or was it the guy who had a shit-ton of money? I can't remember, I always get the two confused.

Upon gaining the talking point of winning the costume contest, these deviants enact their plan. They get a college-aged woman, who is undoubtedly dressed as a skank, since “costume party” to a college girl gets translated into “a justifiable reason for me to dress as a complete slut.” (On a personal note, when I attended these parties in college, I knew that all decency was gone in our nation when I came across a girl dressed as “a sexy nun.”) Then, once they have picked their target, they engage in banter that goes something like this:

Rapist: You from around here?

Girl: FUCK ME! FUCK ME NOW!

Rapist: I'm 70 years old and have the uncanny ability to creep anyone one who comes close to me. Are you sure?

Girl: LOOK AT ME, I'M A SEXY LEOPARD! LOOK AT MY EARS! THAT MAKES ME A LEOPARD! AND LOOK AT MY VAGINA! THAT MAKES ME SEXY!

Now one wouldn't necessarily think that this would be rape, but herein lies the trickiness in the situation. The Planeteers then offer a ride to their sluts, and then the most horrible thing that could ever happen to a woman occurs....












They all get together and SAVE THE PLANET!

Recycle, reduce, reuse. Close the loop.