45 yesterday and a wonderful 8 as I type this. Its something you get used to, actually. In the subway at Randolph, I listened to this guy sing "Under The Boardwalk," then let one train go by so I could listen to "Somewhere Over The Rainbow." It started badly, but once you could hear the echoes it was incredible. I zoned in on the pattern of the platform tiles, the random colors on the walls. Wishing him well in two dollar increments. These are all photos from the Chicago pool on Flickr, I add two photos from my account per day, the limit. What I should do is get a photo of Bubbly Creek now, because it will NOT have ice blocks on it. Or in it. Whatever. Back to the el, the guy made my night.
I liked Bob's comment about his laughing at the thought of a zombie in the toilet bowl, but think on it. The house will vibrate starting at ten AM. Some days, nothing. Others, like last Wednesday, they were driving me nuts. So it would be like a zombie growling in the toilet, stuck inside for good. Hearing the gurgles is like hearing the whup whup whup. It should be noted that since the snow melted yesterday, I now have three huge bags of collie and corgi shit. I know this is a bad idea from the start, but tomorrow I might just throw one of the bags up in the air, right in front of it. My luck the bag would hit the rotor and fling it back down to me at a couple of miles an hour. Weekly Word News, hear I come.
2 comments:
Old Klingon proverb. Never throw Shit into fan.
Yep. That's precisely what would happen if you did that. You would stagger away from the situation covered in collie or corgi poop. Whichever one smells the worst.
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