Why you can never find a chainsaw when you really need one

May 20, 2017

Consider this. You carry a chainsaw in your car day after day without ever skipping a single day. You even carry it when you don’t need it whenever you visit the city. You continue to carry it even when you sometimes give a ride to Christian spinsters and they’re all wondering whether you might be a serial chainsaw killer. You carry it as you know there is always the off chance that you may need it to saw a tree in half when it obstructs your path.

On the day that you decide to send this chainsaw that you carry every single day in your car without fail in for its annual servicing – that’s the day when a tree falls directly in your path…that’s the only time in the whole entire year that you could really do with a chainsaw…..but you simply don’t have one.

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‘You want to know what’s the curse of the Pharaohs. Imagine that you’re taking a dump in a public toilet. After that you pull on the tissue dispenser and it only gives out one miserable wipe and that’s it…it’s empty. You know you’re in big shit as it was a big shit after all. Nonetheless you keep cool. Somewhere between trying to figure out how many times you can wipe and fold and wipe and fold without getting shit all over your fingers. You suddenly experience a rare moment of epiphany. You have a packet of tissue paper in your rucksack! Why didn’t you think of that earlier. You throw that tissue away. You reach cooly for the side pocket for that pack of lifesaver – you know it’s there. As you regularly use it to chope tables in the food court…but that very day you just forgot….it’s not there!

Curse of the Pharaohs.

You preparing for a camping trip. You have all the canned goodies all lines up from Monday to the next Monday – you’re going to have a feast as you start prepping the fire. Suddenly you realise….you forgot the can opener.

Curse of the Pharaohs.

You’re two thirds into an evening party. You’ve just downed two bourbons and you have the third and the evening is just beginning to mellow the way you have always imagine it. Everything is just right to go. There’s even a pretty girl in a short skirt that’s even giving you all greens of a come on…nothing can ever go wrong tonite as you slink right back in the chair. Suddenly you realise your zipper has suffered a catastrophic malfunction and your manhood is displayed a la Pasar Malan style before everyone. Even that girl is now wearing a shock expression of utter disgust and that’s the day when you wearing your fluorescent red Manchester United undies.

Curse of the Pharaohs.

You know what I really believe. In the beginning of the last century a group of itchy backside British archeologist decided to dig up some tombs in the pyramids in Luxor and when they prised open that heavy door that led to the resting place of the pharaohs. They activated an ancient curse. Not just any curse, but a powerful curse that is so potent it even circled the world at least seven times and a bit more and ever since then whenever man needs something – it’s just not there. Or it can’t be found. Or you just simply don’t know where you’ve put it.

The funny thing is when you actually get the job done the really hard and difficult way – one day when you just folding your underwear or socks that thing that you really needed to get you out of a fix…magically appears right before you.

Curse of the Pharaohs.

That’s what I really believe…the curse of the Pharaohs….it can’t be anything else but that because only something supernatural has the power to defy the laws of probability.

What else could it be.

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