Damon Harris (hombre) wrote,
Damon Harris
hombre

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Damon - The Jerk

Greetings.

You may, or may not have ever met me before. You probably aren't able to spot my face in a crowd of people, but be assured that you know who I am. You may not know the sound of my voice, you most likely can not determine the color of my hair, and you will never guess my race or gender... yet you know me.

Let me take a moment to describe myself.


I am the person who, during rush hour traffic, decides to stop and stare at the abandoned shoe alongside the highway, thereby causing everybody else behind me to slow down and create a traffic jam which makes you an hour late getting to work. I am the guy in your office who has the same tastes as you and eats all your favorite food products from the vending machine before you have a chance to purchase any, causing you to settle for a damn 'Big Turk' chocolate bar. I am the guy in charge of programming the LCD and change-dispensing unit on those vending machines to insure you never get the correct change. Ever. I am the person on your cable modem branch who saps all the bandwidth from everybody else by constantly downloading high-resolution episodes of "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" 24 hours a day. I am the guy who goes into your campus computer labs and clogs up all the computer peripherals with wads of dark brown gunk that come from another dimension. I'm the jerk in your office who constantly hums the theme song from "Jeopardy!," forcing you to lose your concentration and have the song stuck in your head until the day you die. I'm the person who accidentally dials the wrong number and calls your house, then continues to do it two more times since it takes a lot to convince me that I'm really the one at fault in this situation. You might know me as the guy whose cellphone plays "La Cucaracha" during the middle of a movie in a large cinema. Somehow, and in some way, I am additionally the man who is also calling my phone during that movie.

I am responsible for forwarding those sentimental Jesus-centric emails to approximately 50,000 random people on a mailing list, then replying to each and every one of them with single-sentence quotes such as "LOL" or ":-P." I am the person on every forum who claims to know a lot about guns and never stops writing about them, yet I routinely make mistakes such as claiming a 9mm pistol uses .45 caliber bullets. You might know me as the man who posts pro-Star Trek messages on the Star Wars forums and vice versa. I let Playstation 2 fans know that I like the Xbox, I let Xbox fans know I prefer the Gamecube, and I let Gamecube fans know I'm heterosexual. If I ever get an email or Instant Message demanding I forward it to 10 other people or else I will have remarkably bad luck, I make sure to forward it to at least 20 people just to be safe. I don't run an anti-virus or spellcheck program, and I don't believe in installing patches or defragmenting my harddrive. I install every Internet program that prompts me to install, I enjoy punching the monkey, and am great friends with Bonzi Buddy. I send emails with attached 800k Photoshop .psd images of my vacation in BC, even though they could easily be converted to 27k .jpg files.

I am the one passenger on the hijacked airplane who voted not to try and overpower the Taliban hijackers during the 9-11-01 attack. I am the guy who knows the person responsible for sending out all the Anthrax-laden mail envelopes, but I'm too lazy to get up and actually phone the FBI with their name. I am the person who came into your office one day wearing a sombrero with flashing Christmas tree lights wrapped around it, thereby causing your boss to implement a strict dress code policy. I am completely responsible for forcing various companies to add seemingly inane warning labels to their products after I misused them.

For example: I took a Q-Tip and kept pushing it into my ear canal until it rammed some soft, squishy substance inside my head, immediately making me dizzy and remember the time back in fifth grade when I took one single piece from every classroom jigsaw puzzle and threw it in the trash.

I am in charge of selecting the largest and loudest speakers for Barbara Streisand concerts. I helped the "Dude, You're Getting a Dell" guy rise to fame. I work with the Highway Safety Commission to randomly place orange cones all over certain lanes of the highway for no reason; it doesn't matter if they're working on the road or not, I just put up the cones whenever I feel like it. I help design the 43-ton garbage trucks that thunder down your street at 3:30 am, making enough sound to vibrate the foundation of your home. I brainstorm ideas for national retail chain stores, such as the "Three-Year Service Plan" and the hardball approach every store employee should take when attempting to sell you one. I work for fast food restaurants and help them come up with ideas like abolishing the "small" and "medium" sized drinks, and instead starting with size "large" and going up to "super-super-super-jumbo-mega-quadruple-size." I have designed each and every outfit for Elton John. I developed the popup ad. I created the popup ad with sound. I thought of the popup ad with sound and Flash and no way to close it except physically turning off your computer and manually replacing the motherboard. I start up telemarketing companies and make sure that all calls are made during dinnertime, selling products that nobody anywhere could ever be interested in. I am in the record industry and choose which bubblegum teenage pop tune should be played on every radio station every other song. I am the lawyer who tries to sue entire state governments when somebody either dies from chain smoking or being shot by a criminal's gun. I was the guy in the Jar Jar Binks costume.

In short, you know me. Our relationship will stay this way until the day you die. I can simply hope to speed up that process while remaining the enigma I am.

Thank you.

That is all.

---Damon
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