I'm Mandrakeroot

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   In this moment I have queue of people at my door wanting me to do trivial things like fix their printers or unfreeze their mail accounts or undelete files they've acidentaly deleted and I'm typing this message in an effort to look busy and occupied on something more pressing and important, I've tried explaining to them that this isn't in my job description and what they are asking does not require the skills of someone with a brain the size of a minor planet and an engineering degree and that they are perfectly capable of solving their innane little problems themselves without my intervention or assistance, after all changing a toner cartridge isn't exactly rocket science, damnit, even basic rocket science isn't what you would call difficult, it's just an cylinder filled with propellant and a means of ignition, however, should they feel that they are not up to the task in hand then the local pet shop sells hamsters and gerbils that I could train to cover these duties should they so wish and at no extra cost I could train these same rodents to do their job functions too so that they can spend more time using their dual-core Intel powered mega desktop PCs with 22" flat screen monitors that they simply had to have to do their jobs, which apparently involves playing ruddy solitare, emailing smutty jokes to each other, surfing the interweb for fricking shoes and cheap caribbean holidays for 6 hours a day and 2 hours spent staring blankly at a spreadsheet, the choice is their's and I'm not fussed either way as long as they leave me alone and if they insist on banging on the door like that then the should at least have the decency to keep time with Mr Cobham as not to disturb my Mahavishnu Orchestra induced listening pleasure, however I doubt they are capable of such polyrhythmic dexterity as many of them can barely count to three without reaching for a calculator and I would also add that sending down the young girl from accounts to ask me is not going to work either, for I have lived amongst women long enough to become immune to their feminine wiles and wise to their devious methods of persuasion, so parading around in a short skirt is not going to get their papers unjammed any quicker, though they are more than welcome to try as I am feeling in a less than generous mood today and would enjoy the challenge.  