Someone Is Out To Inconvenience Me.

While I was going to school in Atlanta, I saw a woman pulled over with a flat tire, so I offered to help. She told me to hurry because she had a hair appointment, and I realized: this is how serial killers are born.

Now it looks like someone wants me dead, or at least very delayed. In the last two months, on three separate occasions, I’ve found two nails and the chunk of metal pictured above in my tires. Three mornings ruined, and $900 spent on new tires. (My SUV uses some fat, pricey ones.)

So thanks, whoever you are. Next time, if you want to show someone how much you hate him, just do what I do: buy him an Edible Arrangement.