i wouldn't say that doing laundry is stressful, boring as shit, but not stressful, EXCEPT when it comes time to match up the socks. when i begin pairing them up i wonder how many socks are going to be left without a partner. at this point i start feeling like a platoon leader who has just lead his troops out of an ambush, only to realize that some of his soldiers didn't make it. ...we had crossed the ridge and those commie bastards sprang up outta nowhere, we didn't stand a chance, we had no choice but to retreat and regroup. the platoon fell back to the rendezvous point and that's when it hit me... we'd lost taylor (blue argyle sock) and hernandez (black ankle sock). i scoured the battlefield (washer/dryer) and found no trace of them anywhere... maybe they're still alive out there, maybe charlie is torturing them deep in some bunker, or maybe they're gone forever... missing socks... you're lost, but not forgotten.
Showing posts from September, 2010
- Other Apps
i just realized that my phone has an option to display a custom message on the lock-screen. so i figured i should put a message that would be useful in the event that someone were to find my lost phone, or if some dickhole stole it. it reads: "If found, email firstname.lastname@example.org; you will be handsomely rewarded... otherwise, the self-destruct sequence will be initiated." sadly, i can't actually remote detonate my phone (yet), but maybe this thief is mildly retarded and doesn't know any better... in which case they'll either throw it in a river, or return it to me. hopefully the latter. and if some good-natured individual were to find it, they'd be inclined to use the (handily available) email address to return it, for that handsome reward, which i still haven't decided on... maybe a meatball?
- Other Apps
me and paxton recently went on a road trip from sf up to seattle, we stopped and spent the night in portland on the way up there. our first 3 hotel choices were all booked so we settled on a motel 6, which was right next to a strip joint called safari (sadly we didn't go in). we did find a decent bar called c-bar, that had some pretty good food and a bunch of pinball games. we think it might have been a gay bar and the real name of the bar might have been cock-bar... as i was at the bar waiting to put in an order this middle aged black dude named jerry sitting next to me started making small talk, pretty standard stuff mostly. although he did ask if we took the"really pretty highway" to get to portland; and then asked something about whether i liked nuts and berries. it started getting weird. i tried focusing on getting the bartender's attention so i could avoid conversing with jerry when a fairly large lady stands at the bar right next to him to order a drink. j