The paper shredder in my office is totally on drugs, you guys.
Nose candy, to be exact.
You know, Crack?
I can tell because the leftovers keep accumulating outside of the paper shredder’s mouth slit.
Can’t see it very well? Let’s take a closer look…
Scott argues that it’s merely dust from all of the shredded paper.
Clearly, he wasn’t paying attention at Dana College R.A. training, when the local police came in to show us photos of what drugs look like. If it hadn’t been for me, we probably would have never even realized our paper shredder was a crack wench.
(I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.)
The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. Before our current shredder, we went through a string of five or six different machines — each of them lasting about six months before ultimately breaking down. Fortunately, we bought the first one at my beloved Wal-Mart and just kept returning it over and over each time one hit the dust.
But this shredder? This shredder has been going strong for over a year. Why? Because office equipment that’s high on cocaine doesn’t get tired. That’s why so many high-powered lawyers use it! Sure, we may have to replace the shredder’s nose in a few months, but truly, that’s a small price to pay for efficiency.
It also explains why this particular model of paper shredder was a scosche more expensive than the other brands. With all the cocaine it had likely been stealing from the back room, they had to charge a higher price to make up for lost profits. You’d know these things if you obsessively watched Breaking Bad, like I do.
While I should probably stage some sort of last-ditch intervention at Office Max, I think I’m going to play the role of enabler just a little bit longer. I mean…it’s not everyday you’re lucky enough to have the Lindsay Lohan of paper shredders waltz into your life.
And yes, I just compared my paper shredder to LiLo. Truly, the only difference is that one gets kicked out of movies with Jane Fonda, while the other eats upwards of twenty pounds of junk mail a day.
Oh, and then there’s the whole relationship with Wilmer Valderrama.
Although technically, I can’t confirm that my paper shredder hasn’t been romantically involved with Mr. Valderrama. Honestly speaking, I wouldn’t put it past her. So, for now, I’m sticking with the Lohan analogy–even if it does make me the Dina Lohan of this entire scenario, as I am technically Lindsey the paper shredder’s legal owner.
Yes…I realize the real Dina probably doesn’t use the word “y’all”. But KaDina Lohan, mother of the highly efficient crack wench paper shredder? It was practically her first word, y’all.
Eventually, I’ll seek help for my shredder’s drug problem. But for now? Let’s just say I’ve got a six-foot tall stack of credit card offers that isn’t going to magically shred itself.
Say no to junk mail, kids.