my friends (world's weirdest night shift, the guys i've been doing shit after work with like "staring at holes in the woods", "climbing across multiple random pipes", "meeting a random friendly land surveyor and sharing beer with him", "meeting a group of people that sent one guy to stalk us through the woods" etc) got so sick of me trying to stubborn-out my fuckass functional work boots or wearing my non-functional backup shoes at work (the assbust machines 9000). so they pooled money to buy me a pair of timberland pros that are unfathomably perfect for me. they had the idea separately, all three of them. they were worried for me. they collaborated. they picked the most perfect pair of boots imaginable for me: 6.5W composite-toe oil/slip/electricity-resistant laceless black ankle boots with heavy tread. i cried in front of everybody on-the-clock

we Acquired a grown man in the woods last night. like literally rolled up and got a new party member. he told us he'd been IN The Hole before and we lost our shit, because we've been obsessed with that hole for months now. imagine a pack of three retail workers descending upon you in the middle of the woods, you're hiding your beer because you think we're the cops, and then we immediately hand you a beer and start trying to smoke you out? and the guy was a land surveyor and we were all instantly fascinated by the concept so we're interrogating him at length about his job. and he went with us to climb in the fucking hole!!!! peace and love on planet earth