How to dismantle a worker drone *

make sure to accomplish the following the day prior:

• get soaked in a cold downpour that sends roaches swarming away from the sewers
• ride an air conditioned bus
• stay up late
• sleep badly
• wake up early

On the day concerned, make sure the following components are present:

• an officemate smelling of cigarette smoke and halitosis with a penchant of singing and dancing (if you can call it that) to the noise he calls music.
• the abovementioned 'music' should be a mix of the following but not limited to: 1)the trash from pogi-rock artists 2)the retarded releases from the so-called artists with a braincell-killing bass beat on a loop and lyrics composed of words such as 'niggah','peeps' and other slang associated with 'gangstahs' calling each other 'niggahs' 3)radio fodder from the past and present 4)so-called songs from the winner of the latest milk-the-masses-of-their-money exercise by TV stations under the guise of a 'talent search' 5)eardrum-busting screeches from Nina and her posse
• badass coffee from the pits of hell that tastes like heaven but has the kick of a thousand crazed horses straight from Hades
• lousy traffic caused by the cars of spoiled brats who will not ride a jeepney even in life-or-death situations who are studying(?) in a couple of posh universities along Taft avenue
• an eager-beaver air conditioning unit that tends to dry out your eyes and inner eyelids
• a persistent cold lurking under the horizon

Add each of them one by one, and at the end of the week, you have reduced a usually robust man into a mindless zombie coughing up things unprintable and feeling years older than his original age. this is the reason why i want cubicles and not a small room crammed with programmers - i want the space, even if the space resembles a prison more than a workstation.

(A/N: * = butchered a U2 album name for this)