Witz Pickz: Office Blackmail

Through a series of ill-fated events, which may or may not have been started by this Witz, my bubble of safety in the workplace has been popped, and I have been made a victim of Blog Terrorists for the second time in a week. I suppose I should have seen this coming-- once you give into terrorist demands, they will only push you further-- and it is my hope that somehow repetitive terrorist demands of me will someday be more commonly known as "my job."

As for the source of the terrorism, I returned to my desk late friday afternoon to find my desktop organizer gone. In its place was a note demanding a 200 word essay on why my desktop organizer is important to me to be posted by 8am on monday. Allegedly, I will get my organizer back when this is stated. Luckily, not only do I give in to blog terrorists' demands, but I also was going to write an extensive "love letter" to my desktop organizer ANYWAY! So, here it is:

Why Witz Pickz his Desktop Organizer

Needless to say, no man is an island. Men, are, in fact, peninsulas, connected to each other and the world via desktop organizers that act as bridges. They provide comfort, stability, and another visual barrier between the corner of my cubicle and the mlb.tv going on on my computer screen. Remove the desktop organizer from my life, and you remove my only lifeline to the rest of the world.

My desktop organizer kicks ass. Plain and simple. It's sleak, easily removeable, durable Rubbermaid technology allows for multiple levels of organization. The two receptacle cubbies all for not one, but two levels of placement for my useful documents and Russian Bride proposals (aka signed legal documents: "Hey Russian hottie, will you marry me? These signed legal documents say yes!"). As if these two cubbies of wonder would be enough for any man to appreciate his organizer, I am doubly blessed. On top of these two cubbies lies a vertical file organizer and crap depository. That's right! Not only can I separate out more papers from each other, but I finally have a place to store my paper clips, tacks, staples, and indians that used to live in my cupboard (and has now been forced to relocate back to the cupboard). In other words, it's the total desktop organizing package.

Finally, and I shouldn't even be saying this, but my desktop organizer is part of an underground network helping enslaved Stick-It pads get to freedom. This is an issue that is rarely discussed is America today and it's shear existence sickens me. Stick-It pads are legally allowed to be owned in all fifty states. They are allowed to vote, but count as 3/7ths of a regular vote (exit polls have shown that 85% of Stick It pads favor gay marriage and if the Democratic party were able to consolidate and harness this demographic, they would win all political races in landslide fashion). My desktop organizer arrived on wednesday under the guise of being purchased from Office Max. In actuality, it has been relocated to my desk as a pivotal station in the underground railroad leading to freedom in the Canadian Wilderness. By removing my desktop organizer, you have not only removed a useful office installation, but a top level leader in a worthy, humanitarian/supply-mitarian effort. This is the true act of terrorism-- and a kind the world must not abide.

Whether my desktop organizer is returned or not is only a minor issue in what this act has shown to the world. We must not allow any freedoms to be taken from any animal, plant, or mineral-- except for cows, because beef is effing DELICIOUS. If my desktop organizer remains gone, it will only go down as a martyr, as a symbol, in the every increasing war on this civil injustices. If it goes down, another will rise up to fill its place in 1-3 busines days. The cost will be insignifant, but its importance will be immeasurable. And me? I pray. I pray for my desktop organizer, and I pray for those who have kidnapped it. I pray for the tiny indians and cowboys forced to live in a stratified upright prison, and I pray for leftover bagels from monday morning meetings. I pray that whatever wrongs can be righted, are, not because they have to be, but because they ought to be-- this is what being human means. Bring my desktop organizer home safely. Take these islands and make a peninsula.

Give Me Liberty or Give me Chips,

Witz