Helping Others is a Sham
I am never, ever, ever going to help anyone ever again.
Double that never if it involves physical labor. What was supposed to be a short day of helping a friend move out of her apartment turned into an epic tale of stupidity and...well......just stupidity.
The two guys that were supposed to help showed up 3 hours late, and drunk off their rockers. My friend decided that since she had people helping her, she didn't need to lift a finger to move her own shit.
When I pointed out the absurdity of the situation, they said I was being prissy. I think I did well not telling them all off and leaving them to their own devices at that point.
Then they dropped the damn sofa on me.
Three lessons here:
1. Never move with drunks
2. Never crawl under a sofa to get anything while people are lifting it up. Especially if they're drunk.
3. Never self-medicate with borrowed year old Percocets and a flat/warm vanilla coke. The results are just tragic. Intersting, judging from the dream hallucinations, but tragic nonetheless. Those were the wildest six hours of my life, and I slept through them. I think. I was either sleep, hallucinating, or completely off my nutter. I also might have been arguing with penguins about the proper action to take during a zombie infestation. Witnessess claim this was the case. I call shenanigans. Arguing with penguins does not necessarily demand sleep as a catalyst. Or drugs. And I'm certainly not going to take the word of drunks and slothful punkers over my own memories, which may or may not be entirely lucid.
Someone is going to pay for this indignity....
Double that never if it involves physical labor. What was supposed to be a short day of helping a friend move out of her apartment turned into an epic tale of stupidity and...well......just stupidity.
The two guys that were supposed to help showed up 3 hours late, and drunk off their rockers. My friend decided that since she had people helping her, she didn't need to lift a finger to move her own shit.
When I pointed out the absurdity of the situation, they said I was being prissy. I think I did well not telling them all off and leaving them to their own devices at that point.
Then they dropped the damn sofa on me.
Three lessons here:
1. Never move with drunks
2. Never crawl under a sofa to get anything while people are lifting it up. Especially if they're drunk.
3. Never self-medicate with borrowed year old Percocets and a flat/warm vanilla coke. The results are just tragic. Intersting, judging from the dream hallucinations, but tragic nonetheless. Those were the wildest six hours of my life, and I slept through them. I think. I was either sleep, hallucinating, or completely off my nutter. I also might have been arguing with penguins about the proper action to take during a zombie infestation. Witnessess claim this was the case. I call shenanigans. Arguing with penguins does not necessarily demand sleep as a catalyst. Or drugs. And I'm certainly not going to take the word of drunks and slothful punkers over my own memories, which may or may not be entirely lucid.
Someone is going to pay for this indignity....