15 Ways To Uplift the Workplace
1) Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

2) Find out where your boss shops and buy exactly the same outfits. Wear them one day after your boss does. This is especially effective if your boss is of a different gender than you.

3) Make up nicknames for all your coworkers and refer to them only by these names. "That's a good point, Sparky." "No, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to disagree with you there, Cha-cha."

4) Send e-mail to the rest of the company telling them exactly what you're doing. For example: "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the bathroom."

5) Hi-Lite your shoes. Tell people you haven't lost them as much since you did this.

6) While sitting at your desk, soak your fingers in Palmolive liquid. Call everyone Madge.

7) Hang mosquito netting around your cubicle. When you emerge to get coffee or a printout or whatever, slap yourself randomly the whole way.

8) Put a chair facing a printer. Sit there all day and tell people you're waiting for your document.

9) Every time someone asks you to do something, anything, ask him or her if they want fries with that.

10) Send e-mail back and forth to yourself engaging yourself in an intellectual debate. Forward the mail to a co-worker and ask her to settle the disagreement.

11) Encourage your colleagues to join you in a little synchronized chair-dancing.

12) Put your trash can on your desk. Label it "IN."

13) Feign an unnatural and hysterical fear of staplers.

14) Send e-mail messages saying there's free pizza or donuts or cake in the lunchroom. When people drift back to work complaining that they found none, lean back, pat your stomach and say, "Oh you've got to be faster than that."

15) Put decaf in the coffee maker for three weeks. Once everyone has withdrawn from caffeine addiction, switch to espresso.

An ode to old age
There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by,
And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie.
My hair's getting thinner, my body is not;
The few teeth I have are beginning to rot.

I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel # 5;
My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive.
When asked of my past, every detail I'll know,
But what was I doing 10 minutes ago?

Well, you get the idea, what more can I say?
I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day;
If my names not there, I'll once again start -
Perfecting the art of falling apart