Just when you thought it was safe...

Just when you thought you had run out of hangers and there were no more hangers and you might have to buy more hangers and you thought, "But how did I run out of hangers..."

Oh, my gods! A bazillion hangers! Okay, maybe fifty. Fifty...seven, let's go with that number. I haven't actually counted, but I'm sure it's more than thirty and probably less than a bazillion. That's totally a real scientific number by the way.  I heard it the other day on NPR. A visiting science dude said that when Julius Caesar blew out his death rattle as he died, he blew out a bazillion carbon atoms and that's why you weigh less in the morning than you did the night before even if you haven't pooped yet. 

So, fifty-seven hangers just hanging in my closet, clothes-less.  Unemployed, as it were. That's still a lot of hangers.  They wait until I leave, then they get all tangled up together like a Roman orgy.

"Et tu, Brute?"
 

Hangers. You just can't trust them not to murder you in the Senate.