So, in an attempt for my family to become more well-read on the happenings of today and also in an effort to support the local economy, my family subscribes subscribed to the local newspaper. Let me explain.
Just the other morning I woke from a deep sleep fresh as the morning dew. The sun was briliant; the air, cool and crisp. I began as I do most other mornings by starting a pot of coffee and doing some morning stretches and exercises. It felt good to be alive. I went out into the living room to have a cup of coffee while i partook in my morning read of The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana by Umberto Eco. Some minutes later my sister went outside and brought the newspaper in. I was excited. I felt enthusiastic, accomplished and all-around ready for what the day was to bring to me.
The newspaper sat on the counter until I finished two chapters in my book. I walked into the kitchen for a coffee refill just as my sister was unwrapping the paper. Something fell out. I brushed it off as nothing. Then a piece of paper fell out, and I assumed it to be one of many advertisements. I picked it up and saw there was something written on it. "DON'T FUCK WITH ME AGAIN", this note read. But who? I asked. I thought people liked me. Who had I wronged so badly? Images of me running a yellow light, and not holding the door open for somebody at the grocery store and other instances of little worth boggled my mind. A temporary overload of supposed bad deeds struck me just as I saw it.
Dripping. The newspaper was dripping. But why? It certainly hadn't rained. The sprinklers were not on. Then I realized what it was that had first dropped from the paper; a condom. I don't know what exactly was in it, I hope it was mayonnaise, but something had leaked from the dong-sock and married itself with the paper. My sister realized what was happening at the same exact moment and she threw the paper towards the sink. I couldn't believe it. Who puts a condom (may or may not have been used) into somebody's newspaper with a terrible, mean note? I called the newspaper to request another copy and to complain about what had happened, and the service girl (let's call her Jane) giggled. I wanted so badly to say, "How would you like it if some random person came over to your house and put a used condom on your kitchen sink?" I didn't ask, though. In all honesty, I wouldn't have stopped at a giggle if I was in her position. Even now I am laughing as I write this. I guess in life there are certain things you need to create, and there are certain things you need to take note of.
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