Man, I took the trash out, and I found out just how low of concerns my neighbors really are. Not only do they not recycle, they read “In Touch Weekly!” Didn’t even have the decency to hide it under something else!
Although who can really blame them, since this one lady in the building went to court to get the communal recycle bin hauled off because she felt its location made her parking space less convenient. I really do sympathize with her inability to back her SUV out with the flourish to which she was accustomed, but now I am stuck shredding and eating my own magazines, and this is harder than one might think. I saw a woodchuck up the hill, and I am going to see if I can kidnap him to eat the magazines for me. He can live in the washing machine when I am not using it. When I am, well, we will work that out when we get there.
I have to go figure out who I can sue about something. The weather: inconvenient or malicious?
I think you mean you have the Peter Schilling song in your head.
Where the hell have you been? Eh! Facebook, now.
There’s just so many people I don’t want to reconnect with. Excluding your bad self of course.
Well, you should have envisioned a future of vast social networking options and adjusted your behavior accordingly ten years ago! I guess you know where to find me? I’d just like it better if I could send you retarded requests to compare record collections every ten minutes.