ahhhh..yeah. You know what I'm talkin' bout.

no?...anybody?...fine, I'll explain

In your general office environment, all the worker bees sit in nice comfy padded chairs, staring blankly into their computer screens. That is until something goes wrong with the computer. Then the I.T. guy has to come in and try to fix whatever the worker bee broke.

Yes, the WINNT folder is important. No, randomly deleting files won't make your computer better.

Invariably, the I.T. guy won't be able to guide the mindless automaton through the steeps needed to stave off the impending blue screen of death, so He'll have to sit down at the computer and do it himself.

And there comes the rub. The mindless automaton may not be able to accomplish anything useful to the rest of the world, but like all mammals, he is a living heat source. So that nice comfy padded chair of his has been baking at 98.6 degrees under his ever-widening rump. And now the I.T. guy has to sit in that festering wad of cushion and fabric and do his ward off the computer gremlins of this world.

And the worst part? The I.T. guy knows it’s coming, and has done everything in his power to stop it. The moronic peon, realizing what he's left behind in the inner folds of that gluteus-maximus domicile when he stands up and catch the cool 72 degree rush of ambient air, becomes grossly self-aware.

All this of course leads to the bumbling idiot to blather on because his nerves are racking his brain which leaves him even more useless than before and he's now hindering the I.T. guy making him sit even longer in that luke-warm sponge trying not to think about the odors now seeping into the seat of his pants.

welcome to my life: where pee in the pool is the least of your problems