Butterfinger Breakage

Seems everyone has a blog these days, and its just the thing to do. I havent spent much time writing in mine because I feel like i never know what to say. So im doing a little research and spending time on OTHER blogs. Astounding results…. they really arent saying anything at all. Most times people just talk about what they had for dinner or something. Wild.

Ok, so fine Im thinking – i’ll just blog about something random ive done today.

Its almost 3 in the afternoon and im workin hard at the office. My forehead keeps making this amusing little ‘bouuoonging’ sound as it repeatedly hits the monitor. Time for coffee.

Cruise down the hall. Reaching the breakroom ive forgotten my coffee cup. No problem – ill use styrofoam. As I turn for the cup stash I come face to face with my nemesis. The vending machine. I hate that thing. Its filled with such vile, nasty, unhealthy garbage but somehow it keeps sucking the change out of my pockets like there is no tomorrow. First thing that catches my eye is a big ol’ butterfinger…..staring me down.
Oh no you dont….you’re mine.
Now i gotta ask…..what is it that the people who stock these things are thinking??? I know it doesnt take an intellect such as the likes of Isaac Newton, but speaking of gravity – why do the butterfingers always have to be located near the top?? Do these guys not know how it feels to reach in for that candy bar …only to retrieve a sheath of shattered and broken bits of chocolate? Granted, it all goes down the same but come on! Put that thing closer to the bottom. Ive also “heard” that Pop-Tarts do the same thing. Makes it awfully hard to get those tasty treats into the toaster in pieces…er…so ive heard.
Ok, coffee. Seems not a SOUL in this place knows how to make it. If I had a nickel for every time I walked into the breakroom in a caffeine-deprived coma to find that some NUMBSKULL has left about a swallow of burning sludge in the bottom without making a fresh pot……ok sorry i digress. Anyhow, I grab a styrofoam cup…and go to pour a little dust…uh…powdered creamer into the cup. The hole has been disfigured by perhaps some OTHER caffeine deprived soul and the creamer misses my cup altogether and onto the counter. Man. I finally engineer some creamer into my cup and pour a cup of the blackest coffee ive ever seen. How long has this stuff been stewing? Oh well. I figure if anything …my forehead with thank me, and ive gotten a blog entry out of the ordeal. Time to console a butterfinger.

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