Momo wrote wonderfully about those suffocating office days when you want to throw a printer through the window and take yourself with it.
This kind of feeling is all too common. Mouse Rage is my problem – the act of rapidly pounding the poor beasts belly on the desk while hissing Motherfucker! motherfucker! And it's rarely the mouse's fault.
What to do with all this office-induced aggression? It's one of the great questions of the modern age. It reminds me of that other great question of the modern age (yes, there's only two) – what to do with the millions of obsolete computers?
You can solve both problems in one neat little package: PC Driving Ranges. Instead of golf balls it's beige plastic goodness. Build it in the middle of some depressing industrial estate, thousands of little booths to simulate that cubicled feeling. Then step right up and for a fiver you can hurl half a dozen computers from a great height. Shout and scream and let the blood boil in your belly as you watch a machine soar across the sky and split its guts all over the ground. That's therapeutic.
And you know those pools filled with coloured balls that kids like to splash in? How about we dig a hole in the ground and throw in all the discarded non-optical mice of the world. You know, the ones with the dirty balls that limp uselessly along your mouse mat. Can you imagine jumping in and hearing the delicious plasticky clickityclickityclickity of a thousand mouse buttons? Rawk.