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I figured I should post something on here for awhile now. I've just never been the kind of person to use a diary, and the average InternetMindWeb user has no particular interest in hearing what my day was like.
So instead, I figured I'd share some of the more interesting stories that have happened to me, or the people around me, over the years.
Todays story comes from my girlfriends mother, to be known hereafter as Elaine. Elaine is a mailman, and yes, that is the term she prefers. She's developed an addiction to Buffy fanfiction which she refers to as Buffy-smut.
Anyway, a few amusing stories have come out of her post office, such as a few weeks ago when the Postal Police ["Failing to reign in disgruntled employees since 1985!"] and the Postal Inspector for all western Washington popped up at her work.
It appears that one of Elaines co-workers was hauling around boxes, like usual, when one of them started leaking a dark liquid, which the person asumed was gas of some sort. One of the other office workers noticed this and stopped her. "No, that's blood. Old, Dried blood. Put that down."
It turns out to be a decapitated goats head, which was being mailed to a cop. They traced the return address to some random guy the cop had arrested, who appearently wanted to put a scare in him.
But I mean, really, why put your return address on the fucking package? They're just going to show up at your door and kick your skull in. What did he think would happen?
"Well Billy-Bob, someone done sent me a decapitated goats head in the mail. I guess I could track him down using the return address he has so kindly supplied... but, fuck it! It's Miller time!"
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