Stabby

Mornings make me stabby. The very act of getting out of bed, dressing, and pretending to be an even semi-functional human being makes me feel stabby.

I shared this sentiment with my girlfriend as I walked into the kitchen this morning. Without a word, she proceeded to hand me a knife and an orange.

Orange Picture

Lessons learned from this early-morning scenario:

  1. I now know how a serial killer juices an orange.
  2. Clearly, my girlfriend has no sense of self-preservation.
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