Tuesday, October 23, 2012

The Beginning of the Campaign.

It's definitely way too early to be alive when you check the dryer that you set the night before and are looking for a specific shirt that was basically the reason you did an entire load of laundry.
I think the damned dryer ate the only shirt I have that fits me.
I think the damned dryer should eat the socks instead.
I think the damned dryer is plotting against me.
I think the damned dryer is holding the shirt hostage.
I think this means war.

The dryer sent out a decoy to distract me via that damned attack chicken that lives on the porch; the dryer distracted me long enough to plant that shirt in my car, thereby attempting to instill upon me the idea that I'm crazy.
No. I am not the crazy one. The laundry may be mocking me, but I know the truth. The dryer is an evil, dirty mastermind, the likes of which no one has ever seen before.

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