(Amanda) just call me "Shredder"

Today I made friends with a diamond cut, quiet running, electric shredder.

I must say I feel pretty badass, I think I need a biker vest or something.

Removing staples can be a dance with death, and the rusty ones are a dance with tetanus... and the documents I'm disposing are pretty dangerous.... like "Comparative Earnings For 1981" or "List of the Board of Governors for 1966" or even "Incident Report"* and documents from the '70s have a creepy way of jumping out of the pile and giving me papercuts...

So yeah, buy me a vest and call me Shredder

(if you are found in the archives, and cannot be trusted to a landfill intact, I will end you)

*some of these are actually kind of funny...