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Up My Dose of Cipro, Please

I was putting a file away at work when I got a paper cut. I immediately contacted the proper personnel to file a workman's comp claim but they wouldn't do it. Instead I was offered some antibacterial wash and a band-aid. I made them pinky swear that if this gets infected and my finger needs to be amputated they'll backdate a claim. I'm not messing around here, people. Infections are serious.

By they way, when I was writing this I couldn't remember the word "amputated" (probably because the infection is already rapidly attacking my brain cells) so I googled remove finger and was somewhat traumatized by the first site suggestion which provided the following detail:

Ever wondered what two colliding
high-strength magnets would do to a lime?
What about a finger?

There is no way I'm clicking on that video. As if I don't have enough things in this world to worry about, now I have to make sure to teach my children to stay away from high-strength magnets because they could smash your finger and it'll get all infected and then you'll die. Which is exactly what is going to happen to me if this paper cut gets infected.

Which reminds me, I need to clean the house and get all my affairs in order because I don't want my family digging around my house after I'm gone.

Sister: What the hell are these? Are these underwear?

Mom: I don't know, isn't there supposed to be elastic somewhere?

Me, From The Beyond: I bought them after my c-section when I had that horrible infection and was super bloated -- I only kept them in case I had another baby and another bad c-section reaction!

Roma Downey: They can't hear you. You've died and I'm here to take your soul to Heaven. But before I do, I'm forcing you to watch uncomfortably while your loved ones look through all the things you thought would always be private.

Mom: What do you suppose this is?

Sister: PUT THAT DOWN! It's unsanitary!

Comments

That about sums up my fears of death, except I have no sister to tell my mom to stop meddling.

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