This is why I don't take the safety talks seriously. I'm the safest MFer on the block, but my employer gives us this demonic spontaneously combustible shit then tells me to be safe. How in the everliving F does this make sense. My wife tells me about her day. She taught a great lesson, picked up the kids, made some banging tacos. How was my day? I didn't erupt in flames while sitting in the drive through of Taco Bell. I escaped another potential day of death once again. Only 59 million days to go. Wish me luck! Oofaloofa I feel better.
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