Bozo

There was a rambling office conversation. I wasn't a part of it, but I'm told that it started with some expressions of frustration. Somehow, Big Dawg's vintage Bozo the Clown doll was invoked, probably for use as a stress-reliever.

"We should get an inflatable Bozo the Clown punching dummy," somebody suggested.

"Yeah, we could put it right here in the middle of the office!"

There was gleeful discussion of inflatable punching objects flying around the office. Visions of rampaging rage-fueled Hulked-out programmers danced in everyone's heads.

But M16 was skeptical. He looked at all the fragile objects in harm's way and said, "We'd have a big problem the first time Jeff punches it."

LadyPatsFan grinned wickedly. "Yeah, it'd hurt him."

Reality is a harsh mistress. With four simple little words, I went from "explosive fury of wrathful vengeance" to "cracked toothpick".

They all laughed more than I care to think about, but I'm told in particular that Big Dawg had trouble breathing for a while. That's hurtful, man.

I wouldn't even have known about the conversation except that LadyPatsFan couldn't stand the thought of picking on me without getting to see me suffer. She was still grinning wickedly as she told me the whole thing. She spared nothing.

"It hurts because it's true," I admitted.

I think she's *still* grinning wickedly at me.


(FYI: There's no blog post this Friday. See you next week!)