I have worked in some weird office environments. Newsrooms tend to be among the weirdest, thanks to the characters who inhabit them and the colorfully dysfunctional culture.

Or so I thought until a colleague showed me an article on "10 Office Faux Pas" from CNNMoney.com. I have seen some strange workplace behavior, but this stuff could keep the scriptwriters for "The Office" busy for years.

One of the classic gems of the workplace etiquette genre is "Don't microwave fish in the office" (originally recorded by Andy Williams and covered in the '90s by the surviving Pretenders).

Frankly, this rule doesn't go far enough. All highly aromatic foodstuffs should be banned in the office, whether nuked or not. I remember a sports editor whose fish sandwiches elicited groans the moment he unwrapped them. Alleged "butter flavored" popcorn smells like someone is microwaving an airsickness bag, and a co-worker's unorthodox cheese sandwiches drove me to huff Sharpies.

But no one ever mentions the dire effect of food that smells good. Homemade Italian, reheated barbecue -- how can you keep your mind on your game of solitaire? Whether a colleague's lunch makes your eyes water or your mouth, you may be sorely tempted to break another rule: Don't steal food.

This is really dirty pool. What kind of barbarian would snatch someone's Tupperware of taco salad or ham sandwich and yogurt out of the fridge? The workplace is grim enough without some craven weasel depriving you of the one moment of pleasure you could look forward to.

You made it last night, thinking how nice it would be to savor that homemade comfort or frozen Lean-Cuisine rectitude between the dire budget meeting and the humiliating performance review. It was your oasis. Of course you put your name on it with the Sharpie from my desk.

And some ogre pawed it right out of the fridge, along with your diet cream soda that they don't have in the vending machine downstairs.

This should be a hanging offense. Take the camera out of the parking lot and put it in the break room. In fact, take the security guard out of the parking lot and put him there too. With a sidearm.

On the other hand, wearing uncomfortable shoes is its own punishment.

Do we really need to be told not to go barefoot in the office? Nobody does that in a newsroom unless they want a tetanus shot.

But in other workplace environments, there are women who wear, according to CNNMoney.com, "five-inch-tall Christian Louboutin shoes" -- and then take them off and go barefoot because their toes have exploded.

This problem could be solved very quickly by making anyone who removes his or her punishing footwear replace it with some other kind of punishing footwear: oversize clown shoes, perhaps, or scuba flippers. Maybe ski boots.

Offices used to be full of the bells of ringing phones; now, the discreet electronic warbles of the office phones mingle with the less predictable ring tones of cellulars. A distinctive ring tone enables your co-workers and boss to know how much time you spend taking personal calls every day. Hunching over does not make you invisible.

Tell your friends and significant other to call your office line. You talk louder on your cell phone, so everyone can hear your conversation either way.

Unless … wait, here's an idea. If you're expecting a particularly spicy personal call, you can clear the area by microwaving a big fish-and-cabbage hoagie first. If they start to return to their desks as the stink fades, you can whip out a clipper and start cutting your toenails.

Take off your 5-inch heels first. But write your name on them; the security guard has been eyeing them up.