The Sandals
If you remember all of the little plot of me, you'll recall I bought a pair of sandals only a small while ago. Yesterday, the back strap that keeps the right one my foot broke. In defiance and refusal to accept that I got royally gipped once again, I wore them anyway today.
All day I walked around with my right foot's toes in claw position as an attempt to cling to the broken sandal so it wouldn't fall off. This raised my big toe up considerably, and now I have a gargantuan scrape covering the entirety of it. Also, the remaining toes are locked into a stiffened cramped curl position.
I hereby and forever more curse all sandal manufacturers. Over all this, I'm completely distraught emotionally. I think I'll cry myself to sleep tonight, and then I'll wake up, call the lawyer, and yell into the phone, "WE HIT THE JACKPOT THIS TIME BABY!"
I wonder if me gnawing my foot completely off in a fit of rage over the whole thing will get me a couple more tens of millions of dollars.
All day I walked around with my right foot's toes in claw position as an attempt to cling to the broken sandal so it wouldn't fall off. This raised my big toe up considerably, and now I have a gargantuan scrape covering the entirety of it. Also, the remaining toes are locked into a stiffened cramped curl position.
I hereby and forever more curse all sandal manufacturers. Over all this, I'm completely distraught emotionally. I think I'll cry myself to sleep tonight, and then I'll wake up, call the lawyer, and yell into the phone, "WE HIT THE JACKPOT THIS TIME BABY!"
I wonder if me gnawing my foot completely off in a fit of rage over the whole thing will get me a couple more tens of millions of dollars.