(Untitled)

[turnip]

there's a fedex guy who drops by the office every so often, and he's gotten me confused with some other redhead (huh!) so he thinks my name is Nicole, and he also thinks I'm planning a wedding/honeymoon. Every time he comes in here, he asks about the wedding/honeymoon, and every time I tell him something vague, like, "we're still figuring it out."

Comments

[sacred_engine]

He is in fact from the future,unfortunately he is from an alternate future where drug abuse, identity theft, and rampant stupidity are so prevalent, that congress will pass the To Whom It May Concern Bill of 2013 (Barracks law), in wich it clearly states that arguing with someone that is a complete, and total fucktard ( forgive the language, in the future all legal documents will not be complete without calling someone a fucktard (Dubyas Law)) will be punishable by death.

He is only testing you. You must destroy him.
(killing any and all perceived threats, real, or imaginary will also be legal under the previously mentioned Dubyas Law)

This is why I am running for congress in 2010

[seaslug_of_doom]

Of course this is the ideal time to start spinning great and improbable yarns.

Oh FedEx Guy! How is my wedding slash honeymoon, you ask? My betrothed has changed his name to Moonglow ApplePie Gelbfish, and is demanding that we get married naked at midnight in the Taco Bell drive-thru. He wants the guests to throw corn chips at the end of the wedding, and for us to ride off on a tandem bicycle with cans tied to the back with hemp string.

What's worse, we shared a joint bank account and he's invested all our money in opening a store selling those Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Men, like he saw on Family GuyMy parents are livid. The stress has put my rhinoceros iguana in the hospital with lime disease. I'm at my wit's end! Help me, FedEx Guy, help me!! Oh take me away from here in your sparkling white truck! I'll sleep on the boxes in the back! I won't complain! I'll darn you new socks that match your FedEx shorts