My Dad passed this along to me, and I thought it was too funny to not share. Enjoy!
The following photos show conclusively why it is that women tend to live longer than men.
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How drunk do you have to be before
this starts looking like a good idea?
Step 1: Remove shoes.
Step 2: Place metal ladder in water.
Step 3: Begin using power tools while standing barefoot on metal ladder in water.
Gee, guys... that seems like an awful lot of protective gear for such a small chlorine gas leak...
I'm sure this guy still wonders why he got fired that day.
And to think... those wimps at the power company use straps and cleats to get up this high!
Necessity is the mother of invention...
Jackstands? Hah! Who needs 'em?
A tribute to Val, Sarah, and Leah...
the itsy bitsy spider
wiggled down the wall
out came the broom
that made the spider fall
the four girls cried
hoping the spider died
and the itsy bitsy spider
was never seen again! (we hope)
Yeah, so it's not perfect. Sue me.
Anywho, I had to document the spider tribulations. Here's what happened, a second-by-second replay:
Leah and I were sitting in our room, enveloped in homework and a deep conversation, of what I can't recall. As she was saying something, I noticed a moving black spot above her head. My eyes lazily gazed up, expecting it to be a chip in the paint, a ladybug, or just a mere figment of my imagination. Much to my surprise, it was a BIG, HAIRY ugly looking spider.
"Leah!!!" I cautiously started. She looked at me like I was crazy for interrupting her thoughts.
"What?" she asked.
"Ummm....there's um...a spider. Above you...on the ceiling," I finished, never letting my eyes falter from the big scary bug.
"Where!?" she countered, her eyes slowly shifting to look above her from her relaxed position in front of her desk, as if she didn't believe me. Oh, but she believed me, alright.
"Yeah...um, a really big spider!" I finished. Her tiny frame jumped out of the chair, and her arms protectively covered her upper body, as if the spider was going to latch on and steal her breast milk. (haha).
"You kill it!!" she half yelled.
"I'm not killing it...ahh! No!! EWW!" I responded, curling away in my own corner of the room.
"I can't kill it! I hate spiders," she responded, both of our voices elevating to a high-pitched whine, as if by talking louder, whinier, and girl-like, it would make the spider go away.
"I hate spiders, too!!" I said.
"Is Valerie here?" she asked, both of us nervously eyeing the continuously moving black bug.
"I don't know, let me check her away message," I replied. I moved to my desk, got on the computer, and proceeded to IM Val, even though she had an away message up. It went something like...
"LEAH AND I NEED YOU!!!!"
Leah responded, "She's not there!! Ahh!" Luckily, we soon heard a knock on the door, followed by a curious Valerie.
"What's going on, guys?" she asked.
"The Spider!!!" we both resounded, almost in unison. "Can you kill it?" Leah asked.
"I hate spiders, but I'll try." We armed her up with paper towels and a magazine, after deliberating about what method we should use to kill the scary thing. Valerie then got on the bed to go kill it, but being close to it, she had to turn away with a squeal. A similar attempt was tried by Leah and then myself, and then Leah again. Finally, I went into the hallway, yelling generally to see if anyone was there that could kill a spider. Sarah Wilbur, though, happened to be walking down the hall and came to check out the situation. She, like the rest of us, attempted, but failed due to the spider's scary looking scariness.
Finally, Leah got a broom and bushwhacked the little bugger. It fell, we're hoping around Leah's desk somewhere, and hopefully in death-like fashion. Who knows.
That's the account of the spider story. Not really significant, but let me tell you--that fucker was scary looking. It was like a mini-terantula (sp?). *shudder*
Despite an anger and upset filled day yesterday, I've finally calmed down. Today is good, even though everything around me is crashing down.
Walking outside, you see the people walking to class, or just hanging out. English majors sitting in the grass reading their british literature novels, the emo bloys playing their guit-boxes with the bongo drums, and the skater boys hopping statues and stairs. The sun is shining brightly, the smiles are glowing on people's faces, and everyone, despite the constant inner turmoil, is happy.