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February 11, 2005 - Friday | 8:42 PM, CST
These last few days, Bloomer has been riding with me to work on account of his Blazer's trashmission going bad. As I rarely see Bloomer outside a work setting, and when I do he is usually behaving in such a manner that I don't want to see him, I enjoy fucking with his mind on the trip home.
Yesterday morning, he tried opening the door to my Bravada, only to discover it was locked. I rolled the passenger side window down partway and handing him out an ice scraper. After complaining that I was making him do my bitch work, he began to scrape the ice off my windshield. He was finished with one side, and began to walk over to the other when I sprayed some deicer out with my washer fluid and had the ice cleared away with two sweeps of the wipers. He yelled for a few minutes that I had made him waste his time, then climbed in and we drove home.
This morning, I let him get in, then handing him the ice scraper. He refused, saying he knew I didn't need him to do that. After reassurring him with "Don't worry, I should probably have some deicer left," I waited until he got himself situated and his seatbelt put on before I ran the wiper once (without spraying any deicer from my washer fluid).
"Oh shit..." I told him. "I'm out of deicer."
I handed him the ice scraper, and made him undo his seatbelt and climb out of the car. After he had begun to clear the ice, I hit the washer button and sprayed the windshield... and Bloomer's face, with a good helping of deicer.
I suppose my karma caught up with me a few minutes later, though, because he and I stopped at Casey's so I could buy some donuts for breakfast. Taking them out at home, I noticed something strange. In the outside ring of my regular holed donuts was some sort of cream filling. "This is odd," I thought. "I've never seen regular donuts with custard baked into the dough."
Well my friends, it wasn't custard. It was uncooked dough. Although I did finish one of the donuts, I didn't want a case of food poisoning so the rest went to the birds. Two of my donuts were fully cooked, but half of the box was still wasted.
Was God punishing me for Bloomer's maltreatment? Possibly, but it was worth it.
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