OH WAIT, NO THEY COULDN'T.
So this morning, I step outside in what I thought was appropriate apparel for the current weather conditions. Wrong. Apparently there's a sink hole in my side walk which I, of course, stepped in. That means wet socks which, if you didn't know, I literally hate more than anything in the world. Immediately after having soaked my socks in cold snow, a mammoth icicle, about two feet long, comes crashing down onto my head, which already hurt, due to the excessive amount of alcohol I consumed the previous evening. Amazing. Now, here's the real kick in the ass. The reason I was stepping outside was to smoke my last cigarette. The very, very last one, and who didn't see this coming from a mile away? It was broken. Not in the manner that you can just remove one part and smoke it without a filter, it was broken right smack dab in the middle. I still smoked it, by god.
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