Day 7 — Pedals
Project 365
My mom made the Paris Post-Intelligencer! She sticks needles in people all day long and collects baggies of their blood. She is my hero. Story link here. (Registration required)
You asked for it, you got it. With a heaping helping of filthy floor and horrible camerawork to boot.
I. Man: That girl — her biscuits ain’t fully baked.Other Man: Shake ‘n’ Bake!Man: But nobody helped. II. I stepped onto the empty elevator, going down, and it smelled like fresh fart. It wasn’t stifling, but it saturated the small space and didn’t seem to dissipate during the entire three-second journey. The whole ride down I just knew that as soon as I stepped off onto the first floor, someone would be there waiting —…
For lunchtime laughs: The “aw gross!” at the end came when Casey blew a giant snot string but my battery died before I could capture the preciousness of it all.
It’s a new year and I need some sort of random rule structure to adhere to that has the added bonus of involving my newish love of craptastic picture-taking. So I’ll hop on to the Project 365 train too, which I found out about through NiT. Hopefully I won’t fall into a routine of just taking shots around the apartment (like I did today). An even bigger goal of mine: Own this before mid-year. In…
My weekend guests can attest to the annoying hilarity of my toilet’s newest personality quirk — a post-flush belch that rattles the entire building’s pipes and, no doubt, signals the impending doom of a plumbing disaster waiting to happen. This all got started Friday night when I got a voicemail from my maintenance dude telling me not to flush between 9:30 and 10:30 a.m. on Saturday morning because he and a plumber would be doing…
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