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You ever notice how there's always that one guy who's a little too touchy-feely? I call him the "fondler." You know, the guy who turns a simple handshake into a weird game of thumb wrestling. I mean, come on, buddy, I just met you—I don't need you trying to read my palm like a fortune teller. I was at a party the other day, and this guy comes up to me, acting all friendly. Next thing I know, he's patting me on the back like he's trying to put out a fire. I'm thinking, "Dude, it's not a secret door back there. No need to knock!"
And it's not just guys; ladies can be fondlers too. They've got this sneaky move where they pretend to fix your collar, but it's really an undercover mission to invade your personal space. I'm not saying I'm paranoid, but I've started wearing turtlenecks just to protect myself from the fondler reconnaissance squad.
So, here's a tip: if you're a fondler, just stick to high-fives. It's like the international language of "I'm friendly, but I won't invade your personal bubble." Let's keep it simple, people.
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We've all become experts at social distancing, right? But there's always that one person who didn't get the memo—the fondler. They treat social distancing like a suggestion, not a rule. I was in line at the grocery store, minding my own business, when Mr. Fondle Ninja decides to practice his interpretive dance routine inches away from me. I'm doing the grocery store limbo, trying to bend my body in ways it's never bent before just to avoid contact.
Maybe we need a "Fondler's Guide to Social Distancing." Lesson one: arms-length is not a suggestion; it's a mandate. Lesson two: no surprise hugs in the frozen food section. Lesson three: if you can smell my shampoo, you're too close.
Let's spread the word and make social distancing fondle-proof. Because nothing says "keep your distance" like a well-timed jazz hand gesture.
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I've been thinking about starting a new fitness trend called "Fondler Fitness." It's the workout where you burn calories by dodging and ducking away from people trying to touch you inappropriately. I guarantee it's more effective than those Zumba classes. Imagine the scene at the gym: instead of lifting weights, you're doing squats to avoid random pats on the back. It's the only workout where your personal space is your gym equipment. We could have workout videos with titles like "Evade the Fondle" or "Dodge the Dapper Drape."
And for the grand finale, we'll have a Fondler Fitness obstacle course. Picture this: a maze filled with overenthusiastic huggers, handshakers, and back-slappers. The person with the fastest time without getting fondled wins a lifetime supply of personal space.
I think I'm onto something here. Forget the treadmill; let's make dodging fondlers the next fitness craze!
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You know you've got a fondler in the office when every team meeting feels like a game of musical chairs, and you're just hoping you don't end up next to Mr. Touchy McFeelerson. It's like a corporate version of Russian roulette, but instead of bullets, it's awkward shoulder rubs. And what's with the guy who thinks it's perfectly acceptable to give you a massage at your desk? I didn't sign up for a spa day; I'm here to work. My keyboard is not a massage table!
I've started strategically placing cacti on my desk as a natural defense mechanism. You touch my shoulder, you get a handful of prickly consequences. It's the office jungle, and I've got my cactus camouflage on.
Note to self: propose a new company policy—mandatory cactus installations at every desk. It's a win-win situation.
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