My desk at work has come to be known as the Great Wall Of D-Man.

You can probably even see it from cyberspace, if my theories about the company planting hidden cameras above my desk are correct…

I have two great big fuck-off computer monitors next to each other, and, adjoining them, files and folders that stretch all along the perimeter of my desk.

This is designed, partly, to keep the shit that clutters my neighbours' desks from encroaching on mine and sparking a sanguinary turf war.

But mostly, it's just to compensate for the open-plan, partition-less environment, which is not really all that conducive to sleeping/passing-out on the job after a session of inhaling the fumes from a fistful of Vivid permanent waterproof marker pens.

It's also designed to enable me to lie-low and hide from my neighbours, so that I don't have to talk to them. Inane conversation is also not really all that conducive to sleeping on the job.

This doesn't always keep the Mongolian hordes at bay, of course.

Like this morning:

Neighbour: (Saying something to me. I have no idea what.)

Other Neighbour: "D-Man! D-Mannn!! Are you asleep or something?!"

Me: (Rubbing eyes) "Wha-? Oh. What’s up, my Ninjas?"

Neighbour: "We were just saying how you're like Wilson, off that Tim the Tool Man Show. You know, Home Improvement."

Other Neighbour: "Yeah, like on Home Improvement."

Me: "Wha-?"

Neighbour:"Wilson. That neighbour of Tim's. You only ever get to see a part of his face. You see just bits of his head over the fence and stuff. That's like you. We can only ever see bits of you through the little gap between your two monitors."

Me: "Wha-?"

Other Neighbour: "Yeah, you're Wilson. He was great, always coming up with lots of great advice and stuff."

Me:"Um… OK. But wouldn't that make me the anti-Wilson, then...?"

Neighbour: "What? Oh …true, you couldn't be Wilson, now I think about it. He was an intellectual type, and you … well, you’re …"

Other Neighbour:: “Well, you’re more of an ineffectual type…”

Me: “Mongolians! Please! I dish out the insults around here, not you! Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do. I've got two computer screens that I need to push a little closer together…"

I’ve discovered that there are worse things than riding your bicycle into a headwind of heavy rain.

Like riding into a headwind of hailstones. And then your rear tyre blows out. For the second time in less than 20 minutes. And now you’re at the bottom of a steep hill, and you've got to carry your bike over your shoulder for the remaining 2km of your ride. But then, almost like magic, a long lost friend pulls up in a car. They say "how are you, haven't seen you in ages". They laugh at your misfortune. Then they drive off without offering you a lift home. Cheers buddy.

I get by with a little help from my friends.

A friend with weed is better ...

As far as I'm concerned, no.

If there's something about a chick that stirs something in you, then they're a babe. Schuh-wing.

I find heaps of 109-year-olds H.O.T.

Mmmm, wrinkles.