So J.G. just started exclaiming and going "Ouch! Crap! Ouch!" in the office next to me. I figured he hit his knee on his desk or something, the way I sometimes do, and said, "Ooops--desk fail."
His reply? "No! Ouch! Pants fail!"
Seriously, who neuters themselves with their own pants while they're sitting there working away at their desk? He was probably daydreaming about Clooney again. Only here....
Margie






