I don’t know the name of the Deadspin writer that sits next to me now, but in my head I call him Personal Space Invader. Do you see that silver line all the way to the left next to his keyboard? That’s where my desk is supposed to start. Do you see all those papers and that clutter jammed behind my monitor? Not mine. When he’s operating his mouse his arm is so far up my junk that he could shake hands with my unborn child.

I don’t know the name of the Deadspin writer that sits next to me now, but in my head I call him Personal Space Invader. Do you see that silver line all the way to the left next to his keyboard? That’s where my desk is supposed to start. Do you see all those papers and that clutter jammed behind my monitor? Not mine. When he’s operating his mouse his arm is so far up my junk that he could shake hands with my unborn child.