that not so fresh feeling
I know I live in California, but I'm surry. It's been fucking cold lately. The temp's been hovering around 40 and it's been damp and rainy and overall shitty. I don't mind the cold. I like the crisp arctic style cold that makes your bone marrow go stiff, but this cold soggy shit's gotta end. Today I nearly slipped and died when I misjudged the tackiness of a curb on the corner of Main Street, but my left fore arm, a light post and my surprisingly cat-like reflexes saved me from an embarassing fate: Dead on Main Street. I can see the cheesy graphic on local news already.
Earlier, my roommates and I halfheartedly went on a search to find a washer and dryer. We heard that this place next to the Econowash rented machines, which would be cheaper than buying one in the short run (especially since we're all broke). The building was pink and sketchy on the outside, and sketchier on the inside. Especially since many of the products they had were really nice. "Slightly dinged and dented returns," as the proprietor said. He also informed us that, because the insurance was so high, he no longer rented machines. The search ended there. We left because the showroom stunk of cat shit.
On the way to the shop (I'm working backwards here right now), a perfectly fuzzy yellow honey bee landed on the windshield of my roommate's car. It was the most picture-perfect bee I've ever seen, probably because I have the usual "FUCK! A BEE!" reaction that most people usually get when confronted with one of our dutiful, honey-making friends. Google Images is being super slow, but even if it wasn't, I'm sure I couldn't find a bee as perfect as this one was. Though I'd rather they stay at a distance, I like bees for the same reason I like ants. They live their short lives with such purpose. I admire their hard working attitudes and their dedication to a task. They're noble little critters, for the most part, there are the vicious ones of both species, but mostly they do what they were made to do, languishing as just a faceless appendage of the colony.
I felt particularly bad for this bee, as pretty as it was, because it had clearly emerged from its egg at the wrong time. It was dampened by the rain and windswept and probably wondering where the rest of the bees were. When the light turned green, we moved forward and the bee zipped off to, I hope, a dryer spot. Good thing it wasn't in the car, because I probably would have freaked.
Earlier, my roommates and I halfheartedly went on a search to find a washer and dryer. We heard that this place next to the Econowash rented machines, which would be cheaper than buying one in the short run (especially since we're all broke). The building was pink and sketchy on the outside, and sketchier on the inside. Especially since many of the products they had were really nice. "Slightly dinged and dented returns," as the proprietor said. He also informed us that, because the insurance was so high, he no longer rented machines. The search ended there. We left because the showroom stunk of cat shit.
On the way to the shop (I'm working backwards here right now), a perfectly fuzzy yellow honey bee landed on the windshield of my roommate's car. It was the most picture-perfect bee I've ever seen, probably because I have the usual "FUCK! A BEE!" reaction that most people usually get when confronted with one of our dutiful, honey-making friends. Google Images is being super slow, but even if it wasn't, I'm sure I couldn't find a bee as perfect as this one was. Though I'd rather they stay at a distance, I like bees for the same reason I like ants. They live their short lives with such purpose. I admire their hard working attitudes and their dedication to a task. They're noble little critters, for the most part, there are the vicious ones of both species, but mostly they do what they were made to do, languishing as just a faceless appendage of the colony.
I felt particularly bad for this bee, as pretty as it was, because it had clearly emerged from its egg at the wrong time. It was dampened by the rain and windswept and probably wondering where the rest of the bees were. When the light turned green, we moved forward and the bee zipped off to, I hope, a dryer spot. Good thing it wasn't in the car, because I probably would have freaked.
I just got an e-mail that I'll be interviewing the dude who looks like Egon Spengler from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs tomorrow, and I have no clue what I'm going to talk to him about seeing as I've only heard the single and by the time the interview gets published, everyone will have heard the album but me, so I'll sound like a complete tool. But bees make honey, I suppose.
1 comment:
HA! It's in the 60s here! HA!
Good luck with Egon, man.
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