Marc
It's A Garbage Picker's Goldmine Down Here: Swear to God, I've not seen a dumpster go unscathed. There are roughly ten to fifteen people making the rounds at the trash bins, digging for something. What they're finding is probably pure gold to them, but waste to a bunch of stinkin' frat boys. I can barely hold my contempt in for the bunch. I'm happy to be out of our last apartment, although it means no more living with Zach. I'm moved into the new pad, almost all the way settled in, and ready to go.
Apparently a group of girls lived here last year, and they either (a) kept the place nice and tidy or (b) did a fantasmagoric job on the cleanup yesterday or the day before that. This place looks immaculate, although not very stylish. Believe me when I say "I like ketchup". I just don't want to live in a place that has ketchup colored counters for more than a year. Besides, how would you know if you spilled ketchup on them? Ahhh. .. touchee'.
The Plan is to do some partying tonight, followed by my first big sleep at the new pad. I had planned on sleeping outdoors last night, on my temporarily homeless couch on Matt King's Nuts front porch. Alas, I didn't. Somewhere, someone turned the thermostat to "chilly" outside last night, so I was forced indoors. Being homeless was kind of fun. I sat on Matt's porch for a good four hours or so, playing my acoustic, watching the traffic roll by, observing everyone else moving up and about, and drinking. Stayed up late talking on said couch, then said a polite "goodbye" and promptly passed out. I was neither trashed nor wasted (the two best descriptive words in the English language when trying to convey a sense of drunken stupor).
OK (+) Three: Sorry I wasn't able to make it out last night. If you'd have seen my car, you would've shed a tear for me. Honest to Al (ahhhhh. ....).
It's A Garbage Picker's Goldmine Down Here: Swear to God, I've not seen a dumpster go unscathed. There are roughly ten to fifteen people making the rounds at the trash bins, digging for something. What they're finding is probably pure gold to them, but waste to a bunch of stinkin' frat boys. I can barely hold my contempt in for the bunch. I'm happy to be out of our last apartment, although it means no more living with Zach. I'm moved into the new pad, almost all the way settled in, and ready to go.
Apparently a group of girls lived here last year, and they either (a) kept the place nice and tidy or (b) did a fantasmagoric job on the cleanup yesterday or the day before that. This place looks immaculate, although not very stylish. Believe me when I say "I like ketchup". I just don't want to live in a place that has ketchup colored counters for more than a year. Besides, how would you know if you spilled ketchup on them? Ahhh. .. touchee'.
The Plan is to do some partying tonight, followed by my first big sleep at the new pad. I had planned on sleeping outdoors last night, on my temporarily homeless couch on Matt King's Nuts front porch. Alas, I didn't. Somewhere, someone turned the thermostat to "chilly" outside last night, so I was forced indoors. Being homeless was kind of fun. I sat on Matt's porch for a good four hours or so, playing my acoustic, watching the traffic roll by, observing everyone else moving up and about, and drinking. Stayed up late talking on said couch, then said a polite "goodbye" and promptly passed out. I was neither trashed nor wasted (the two best descriptive words in the English language when trying to convey a sense of drunken stupor).
OK (+) Three: Sorry I wasn't able to make it out last night. If you'd have seen my car, you would've shed a tear for me. Honest to Al (ahhhhh. ....).
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