Soooo I realized this blog has turned into something of a complain/fear blog, and I also realize that one of my first posts is me hating when people complain. Well you know what. Shut the hell up because who made you the boss?
Anyways, I’m sitting in Canadian History, staring at the back of this girls head with a strange braid and yellow fleece sweater thinking about having to go to the library and taking the elevator. I just figured I took the elevator because I was fat and lazy. But I thought about it and realized I really try to avoid them at all costs when going down them. I avoid going up them because I’m out of shape.
I thought about it some more and something dawned on me. I am frightened of going down the stairs. Not like one flight of stairs or anything, but an industrial type of stairs in a building,you know? I feel like if I were to gain any speed going down the stairs my huge front and tits will propel me forward and I would turn into some type of rolling flesh ball of death.
Also, have you ever seen a scary movie. I bet you have because we all know peoples asses get murdered in stairwells. Or raped. Or disappeared by a Japanese girl ghost out for revenge. I’m just sayin, nothing good ever came out of a staircase in a movie.
Furthermore! Why are all these stairs made of concrete and steel and shards of glass and spikes and the tears of children and blood? If I were to fall down these stairs, which Is quite the possibility, I would most likely die or have some terrible disfigurement. Or both.
People are terrified of the elevator. I for one celebrate the elevator; if I die on the elevator, guess what, it’s going to be quick. I will plummet to my death. I won’t bounce and bang and thrash to my possible death. What I’m trying to say is, I like elevators..
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