Nothing screams unemployed bike mechanic more than this:
With Halloween approaching, I thought a touch of gore would be apt. I wanted to look as if I’d just gotten through disembowelling a large wild animal in search of the tastiest hunk of offal. Normal Halloween fantasies, you know?
Continue reading “Attention: I enjoy attention.”So far, I have been correct in my assumption that the folks who overlook the self-checkout area in the evenings exercise diligence in proportionate to their pay grade. Yes, you be the zombies so that I can continue my vampiric grocery shopping habits. Thanks for not giving a shit about me ringing up my blood oranges as small navel oranges.
Continue reading “To be weeb or weird.”Oh! The creeping despair of losing an hour of daylight. Losing the will to wear shorts. Watching my garden wither and die. The season of decay has arrived.
October is almost here, and it’s time to let go of summer. I’ve been combating my Autumn Blues with thermal bibs, and soon, mitts. “How do you shift with mitts?” asked Alexa.
I can feel the paddle through a centimetre of insulation.
I’m treating myself to some aromatherapy with my latest scented candle purchase and draping my body in my technicolour dream-robe. I even bought a sweater for when I’m not ensconced in my robe. My bi-monthly (eh, more like tri-monthly) bouquet purchases are still happening.
It didn’t look that big in the store. What the fancy rich lady shit is this, right?
Continue reading “Hell isn’t a place, it’s a vibe.”Zoée asked me how my garden was doing today. I was delighted to answer their question with a series of photos:
It’s an easy date to remember: smack in the middle of the year. I scurried away from the bike shop around 10am to get a donut from the coffee shop to celebrate. Fifteen minutes after finishing my donut, I come into the lunchroom to wash a handful of mini cucumbers and find a box of donuts, free for all, on the table.
I was encouraged to have a second donut. I’d lost interest at that point and chomped down on my mini cucumbers in front of that box of donuts with a sense of superiority about my dietary choices.
Continue reading “One year anniversary of getting KO by an old lady.”
squaremeat.com 