"Raj Dude"

I sit next to this brilliant Indian guy on the desk (dot, not feathers) who is a huge fan of "street meat", you know, the gyro carts that litter every street corner in midtown not already occupied by a sabrett stand.

I only mention it because after an hour or so of having consumed his rat and chicken lip pita sandwich, he gets flatulent. It's not often I'm bullied out of a room by a wily ass vapor, but if you were to drop this motherfucker in the middle of Iraq, there is a better than average chance that he would be charged, tried, convicted and summarily executed as a war criminal for illicit use of a biological weapon against humanity. I swear to you, the air around him actually changes color and his mouse, keyboard and anything else made of plastic within a 10 foot radius of him begins to melt.

I might bring a 3 week old rotting corpse to work with me tomorrow to use as an air freshener, or smear fresh dogshit on my upper lip to help mitigate the rank odor that erupts from his ass often and without warning. If I were his chair I'd have retained Robert fucking Shapiro by now. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.

Raj (the CIA's top secret human methane project gone terribly wrong) was quiet the first few days i sat next to him, but now that he's shared the contents of his colon with me, he's opened up and become quite the chatter box. For example, today I learned that his dream girl is either Dominican or Puerto Rican, has a 15 inch waist and an ass the size of a 1959 Cadillac El Dorado. I mean a buddunka-dunk that makes J-Lo's junk in the trunk look like a 10 year old Asian boys.

Baddunkadunk.

He went on to explain, in great detail and with increasingly energetic and animated hand gestures, that - beyond the 4-5million he makes a year - the true prize, for him, is scoring with an anatomically incorrect Latina. the problem, as i see it, is that most of the women i know that fit that description are single mothers (already with 3-5 children) and are still only 17 years old. i hope he finds Mrs. right. knowing him like i now do, i trust he would quickly build a condo in her over sized caboose, crawl up there and live a long happy life...god knows the smell wouldn't bother him.