So I pull into my correct garage.
I hit a table on the left. How do I know it's a table? Because some idiot put it there. (eeekkk)
So I know I can't get into the house through the kitchen via the left side.
I am on the right entering the house, but I can't get around my car which has hit a couch out there.....
So, somehow I put down the cawfee, my keys and my shades on that very same couch.
Yep, because I have been on ribit's diet forever, I can't get through.
At least 30 minutes later, I have my left foot through that space. You have to picture this. I have one leg over the car/couch, but the other leg is flat on the floor wayyyyyy back there, all by its lonesome.
Now I am getting more nervous than usual. Why?
Because I know I am going to die in the garage with my legs completely separated and I don't know how to move out of this absurdly, ridiculous position.
It's ribit's fault because if I were down 10 pounds, instead of going in the wrong direction, I could squeeze through, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo.
All I could think of was that IF somebody found me, dead or alive............
they would see my private parts......
cuz my pants fell down.
omg
If you think education is expensive, try ignorance.
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