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July 16, 2017 / themrtinney

Grave(l) predicament… or… Have you seen my stapler?

My boss moved my parking spot to the gravel parking lot anoffice-space-miltond now I’m going to die.

You don’t understand.  There is gravel on the gravel lot.  Lots of gravel.  In the gravel is dust.  In the dust is probably (definitely) a whole microscopic world of killer organisms.. which are not to be mistaken for killer orgasms even though that would be more interesting and probably less actually deadly.

People… the killer organisms in the dust that are in the gravel are now in the car that is parked on the gravel lot.  I get in the car that is parked on the gravel lot with the gravel that has the dust that’s probably filled with forty-two gazillion killer organisms.  Ergo – I’m going to die.  Remember – these are killer organisms we’re dealing with here, not just your average everyday bullying and teasing organisms.  They most likely have weapons and questionable attitudes.

Also, I just used ‘ergo’ in a sentence and now own the English language.

If I don’t die from the killer organisms and their evil minions (let’s face it, they have to have evil minions.  Somebody has to carry the toxin guns) I will probably die from being 112% OCD about the black interior of my car meeting the grey gravel that attaches itself to my shoes every day.

Black floor mat:  “Hello MrTinney’s shoes, welcome ba… .whoa!!!  Who the hell are you guys?”

Gravel pieces:  “Don’t mind us… we were invited.”

Black floor mat:  “What’s that shit crawling on you!?  Does that thing have a shank?!!”

My poor car.  I’m thinking of buying a portable vacuum that plugs into your power port.  Maybe I can vacuum my shoe bottoms when I get in.  And my pant legs.  And the carpet.  And wear a hazmat suit.

This isn’t going to end well.

 

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