Derek is such a clumsy dork.
He tore a hole in me yesterday. You know that big fat wallet of his that he keeps stuffed with name cards? Yeah well, that stupid fat piece of leather kept scraping against my back pocket whenever Derek sat down.
I swear I tried to hold it together, but with that constant scraping, it was only a matter of time before my threads started to wear and tear. And once there's a slight tear, you know how fast those things grow.
So there you have it. I'm torn. Just slightly torn, but torn nonetheless. And you know what? I don't care. Derek's gonna have to walk around with a tear in his jeans showing off his butt cheek, and THAT IS HIS OWN DAMN FAULT!
As for me, I'm never letting that fat wallet go into my back pocket again. Ever. From now on, he sits up front next to Derek's keys.
No comments:
Post a Comment