Knock knock! Who's there? Impatient door. Impatien... SMACK!
How many Kevins does it take to navigate a darkened hallway? None, they all die after hitting a door, which severs their aortic valve, and causes a horrifically bloody death that makes even the most hardened of crime scene investigators burst out crying while clamoring for their mommy (who isn't actually there).
Yes, it's true. Over break, I walked into a door. While I'm pretty sure I didn't actually die from the tragic endeavor, I learned some good hard lessons that I'll share with you. From my experience, maybe you'll some day avoid death and then the really painful bruise that appeared on my face will suddenly become worthwhile.
My case occurred simply enough. I was at my parents' house and walking through the basement with the lights off, confident that I knew how to navigate the area sans light.
The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, clutching my face, registering a bizarre combination of shock and pain, or shpain. Don't worry though; my glasses somehow survived the ordeal—luckily I must have purchased shpain-resistant glasses. Too bad they make me look like a bigger nerd than I already am.
But here comes the public service announcement of my ordeal. As I said, the door didn't kill me, it just injured my pride. Had I been carrying something dangerous like a katana blade or PokAc Ball, and the door actually ended me, my funeral would have probably consisted of lame jokes in the previously mentioned style, which would harm my pride even more.
I know many people are returning from break and are arriving back to a home that might appear foreign to them. The arrangement of tables and chairs might seem different, which could sever toes, or untended dust bunnies could have grown to gigantically evil proportions and feasted upon your real bunnies.
If someone accidentally left out a cup of pudding, it's very possible the organism could have evolved into a death-causing monster of death, which could cause death—or at the very least a bad case of indigestion.
So take time to relearn your room. If any wildlife has spawned, give it a fun name and pet it. If your room becomes haunted by a poltergeist, merely exorcise it. And if you come home to find the most literal definition of ""weird shit"" in the toilet, like I did, flush it.
These simple bits of advice could save your life and pride, because you don't want are ""that guy"" where the last words spoken of you at your funeral to be, ""What's the difference between a pudding cup and a rancid, evil pudding cup of destruction? One tastes great, while the other ate our dearly departed friend... and didn't taste as good (rim shot!)
Although I will admit, it is a helluva joke.
