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
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