I feel so unloved. I’m not on the computer for 4 days and I come back to 16 emails, two of which promise to enlarge my non-existent penis.
Lib has been on me, saying I need to keep my work shoes in the garage because the bottoms get dirty. I usually leave them in the laundry room because I’m terrified that if they’re in the garage, they’ll be a spider them. Yesterday I left them in the garage and when I put them on for work, there was a freaking TOAD in one of them. I stuck my foot in and felt it, thinking it was a spider; I kicked my shoe off and screamed. It didn’t die and it lived to hop around another day. Needless to say, I can still keep my shoes in the laundry room.
Battlestar Galactica, Boomer/Head!Six
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