I looked at more terrible baby names today at another hospital. The office we were placed in listened to a country music station all day. It was not super. Even less super: the employee that whistled along to every song. She even continued whistling during the commercial breaks. I wished foul things upon her. I wonder what her two co-workers have wished upon her. Surely they've had that conversation by now, right? "Could you stop the whistling, please?" "Is this bothering you?" "Very much." "I love to whistle." "Please stop." "I won a contest once." "Please." "I'd rather not." "Please?" "No deal."
Driving home, I was troubled to find a poorly-secured load of onions on the semi in front of me. I sensed danger and switched lanes 20 seconds before the first sweet yellow onion escaped its red twine bag and bounced onto the pavement.
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