Friday, July 24, 2009

Tropicana Tragedy

Here's something that just happened: I just shook the orange juice because I was going to have a glass -- as I do every morning. This orange juice container apparently had a faulty top. Here's a list of places the orange juice went: the carpet, the refrigerator, the freezer, the ice tray in the freezer, the counter, my shirt, my face, my hair, my eyes, picture frames, cabinets, walls. After swearing for about 30 seconds (using new combinations such as "fucking fucker fuck" and "cunt weasel shit turd"), I had to spend about 10 minutes cleaning before taking a shower. The worst thing about this is that now my normal life of shaking the orange juice in the morning will be fraught with fear and uncertainty.


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