Share Your Good News Here

I've been craving a good sandwich all day today and couldn't figure out why. Now it dawns on me: this thread.

 

My good news today is that the bleeding stopped.

Protip: If you're going to sitting on the floor going through the stack of old papers next to your desk, make sure there's not an Xacto knife poised precariously on a stack of books on said desk. I bumped the desk, heard something rolling and - in a split second, thought "Xacto!". Watched in slo-mo as it rolled off the books, hit the desk, ricocheted off the file cabinet and stick - STICK! - about a half-inch into my leg.

Surprisingly, didn't hurt much. So, I pull it out and there was a fucking geyser of blood. Not a trickle. It was shooting about an inch above my leg. Had to have clipped a fairly large blood vessel.

Anyway, it's been about 30 minutes. I'd bet I lost maybe a cup and a half of blood. So the good news is, I guess, that I have the ability to clot... eventually.

 

[Kramer and Jerry.]

JERRY: Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were baby-sitting at Vivian's.

KRAMER: There was an incident.

JERRY: Oh no, where's the blood? (opens the fridge) It's in here isn't it?

KRAMER: Would you stop it.

JERRY: What is this?

KRAMER: It's Jell-O.

JERRY: What about this? This is blood isn't it?!

KRAMER: This is tomato juice, look...(drinks from the bottle.)

JERRY: Ooh, you're sick! You're sick!!

KRAMER: Will you calm down. I took all my blood down to Newman's. He let me put it in his meat freezer.

JERRY: Hey, what's going on? Who made pudding?

KRAMER: Oh yeah yeah, George he came by and made more of those pudding skin singles. They're delicious.

JERRY: Damn that George, I told him I don't want this stuff around here anymore...

(Jerry hits a spatula on the table and one Exacto knife flies through the air.)

KRAMER: Heads up!

JERRY: Aaah...

 

Your concept of matching is sorely lacking.

 

This thread has taken some interesting twists and turns.

 

Now, is that good news?

 

The ice cream truck is visiting work today.

Office veterans have told me this happens every Friday through the summer. Basically, guy rolls through the parking lot playing the horn and everyone runs out to get some great tasting summery-goodness. Like people actually run. Apparently it is mass chaos. I love working in offices!

 

"ICE CREAM!! ICE CREAM!! THE ICE CREAM MAN IS COMING!!"



"You don't have no ice cream, you don't have no ice cream, you didn't get none, you didn't get none, because you are on the welfare, you can't afford it, you can't afford it.....wanna lick? SIKE!!"

 

Isn't that a bit of a cliche, a member of your tribe eating Chinese food?
That would be like a poster of Irish descent writing about drinking all the time and quoting poetry.