Find Yourself in Mizz-ery

When I woke on Tuesday, I felt like being an absolute bum. I really didn't want to leave the crib, but I had to work. Taking full advantage of my J.O.B's dress rules, I promptly through on some mesh basketball shorts, a long-sleeve Mizzou tee and a Mizzou cap.

I flew under the radar for most of the day, no one saying much of anything about my attire. Then a co-worker with similar name as mine (drop the d), who went to that school across the west border known as KU, came up to me and said the following:

"Will you go ahead and clean that bird shit off of your chest and hat."

I didn't even look to see if a bird had shat (shitted, which is it I don't know) on me. I knew what he was referencing. He kept walking, and within three minutes he was back in my office, headed toward me with a roll of toilet paper.

I already knew what he was going to say ("This is for you to clean yourself up with."), but better yet, how I'd respond.

I happily took the toilet paper from him. I waited until 5 p.m., when most of my co-workers left, and then went and TP'd his desk with the ammunition he gave me. Yes, it seems like a high school prank, but we try to keep it fun in our office.

He had a hell of a time cleaning up the mess I left for him the next morning when he got there at 7 a.m.
-------
Another co-worker came up to me on Friday and told me that he wanted me to come holler at him at his desk. I did, like an hour later, and watched as he opened a desk drawer with about 150 albums in it.

He gave me access to them all. I damn near cried. You know how much I love music.