I used to have a coworker who would tap his pencils. Not while he was thinking, because he was never thinking, but for hours, for fun. These drumstick pencils are just encouraging others like him to continue with their tapping. Tap tap tap tap tap. It’s morse code for “you hate working here.” Tap tap tap.
The only thing worse would be a desk toy that makes drum sounds with a tinny speaker. Of course, such a terrible thing exists, and I hope that your local pencil-drummer doesn’t read this, or he’ll have it overnighted to work so he can play it as soon as possible.
Load your eggs into this expensive plastic tray and it will tell your phone when your eggs are about to go bad. It will also show you which eggs are the oldest and should be eaten first. None of this makes sense, when you consider that eggs are sold in a paper carton with an expiration date, and if you have two cartons, you can eat the eggs from the older one first.
“Shhh, shhh,” the Phish dad says, as his child cries. “Just keep listening. You’ll get into it. Trust me. You’ll be a Phish-head any day now.” He picks up the ipod, clicks around for a moment, and sets it back down. “Phish isn’t the only jam band, either, kid. I’ve got a lullaby version of Widespread Panic that’ll really make you twirl in circles in a dirty field for hours.”
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