The waiting is the hardest part.

That will tire you out.

Please spare the puns.

Those both fell flat.

Now at discount tire. Fun day off

I'm forced to drive into work because we aren't allowed to take public transportation and I hit a pothole going about 60 miles an hour so I think I'm going to be billing my company for this one way or another!

I think I'm going to be billing my company for this one way or another!

You're all treading on thin ice with this nonsense.

C'mon now. Let's stop using the same tired jokes. At least make an attempt to rotate them once in awhile.

wow guys, that's a pretty Cavalier attitude to take!

I used to sell tires.

There'd be a huge pile of used tires in the back lot that we had to load into a semi-trailer every couple times a year scheduled on the hottest day of the year and pile them up to the roof.

You'd be shirtless and climbing to the top of the inside of the trailer to stack them and burn the hell out of your back when it hit the top of the trailer like you lied down on a stove.

They were covered in fire-retardant green stuff. Those were fun days. I always figured I would get cancer from that exposure one day.

I decided not to make that my career.

I used to work at a scientific supply warehouse. One of my jobs involved packing fetal pigs, cats, and frogs into boxes for schools to use in biology dissection units. The animals came wrapped in plastic and soaked in formaldehyde, so I wasn't responsible for embalming or anything freaky like that.

The problem, though, was that roughly 10% of the plastic packs would leak while I was packing them, and sometimes I'd get doused with the preserving fluid. It burned like crazy if you got it on your hands or face. The fumes would make you lightheaded, too. But the worst part was seeing the dead cats--very often they were apparently stricken with terror just before they died, and their faces were frozen into horrified grimaces. The cats were supposed to be professionally euthanized, but something must have gone wrong with the batch I was handling that summer. The other packers didn't have cats like mine, but they seemed to suffer from more formaldehyde squirts than I did.

That's horrifying.

We will die from cancer together, TM.

No doubt. I also had to pack volatile chemicals for that job as well. Leaks were a problem in that department, too. Let's just say my employer wasn't too concerned about meeting OSHA requirements for a safe workplace.

you don't seem to have the best of luck with hitting potholes

I used to work at a scientific supply warehouse. One of my jobs involved packing fetal pigs, cats, and frogs into boxes for schools to use in biology dissection units. The animals came wrapped in plastic and soaked in formaldehyde, so I wasn't responsible for embalming or anything freaky like that.

The problem, though, was that roughly 10% of the plastic packs would leak while I was packing them, and sometimes I'd get doused with the preserving fluid. It burned like crazy if you got it on your hands or face. The fumes would make you lightheaded, too. But the worst part was seeing the dead cats--very often they were apparently stricken with terror just before they died, and their faces were frozen into horrified grimaces. The cats were supposed to be professionally euthanized, but something must have gone wrong with the batch I was handling that summer. The other packers didn't have cats like mine, but they seemed to suffer from more formaldehyde squirts than I did.