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Hello Deborah. How's the family? Anyhoo, I'd like to play a game. Deborah. You spend all your lunch breaks eating loudly at your desk, even though everyone else is still there, trying to work. They have to smell your microwave lasagna. Have to listen to you chew and slurp it down. Have to listen to you scrape your fork violently against the plastic trying to get every last bit. Clearly you don't appreciate not having cancer -- which is my motivation, by the way, to make people appreciate not having cancer. I have cancer. Let me tell you, it blows. At any rate, I'm going to force you to eat in the break room. I call it that, because in order to escape it, you have to break all your limbs so you can squeeze through all the barbed-wire tunnels I made. Also, when I said "force you to eat," I meant you're going to be eaten by man-eating rats. Technically, theoretically, you have a chance to survive, so this isn't murder. And if you do survive, you bet your keester that you'll have a new appreciation for not having cancer. Catch you on the flip side, which is a room where you get one half of your body flipped onto the other half by a giant George Foreman Lean Mean Fat-Reducing Grilling Machine. If you make it that far, non-cancer-haver. Jigsaw out.
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Sep 14, 2018 15:20
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 13:15 |
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