existential crisis

existential crisis

I have 3 medium-big sized dogs. If we clean a piece of furniture, there will be an inch-thick lair of dog hair on it in seconds. The dogs don’t even need to be in the room, the hair just appears in a puff of hatred and dustiness. Me leaving the house without dog hair covering every inch of my clothes is surely a violation of some fundamental constant of the universe, and I would immediately disappear, along with any remaining indications of my existence.
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