Laundry day. Still have to make a guest appearance at the shop. Moving at eleventy jillion miles an hour. Can't find my warm Patagonia capilene legging-thingies. Jeebus, it's cold in here! I yank the dresser drawer open a little too vigorously and... *crash!*
It looks like I'll be needing to re-sight in my little Browning .22 rifle. I hope the scope's okay.
Hmm! With this drawer out of the dresser, I now know where all my old Mac floppies went. Maybe I can play with the Color Classic tonight. Doubtful, though, as now I'm totally obsessed with the vanished clothing. I imagine it'll be Nancy Drew and the Case of the Missing Long Johns around here all night.
*grumble*
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3 comments:
Didja find my lost youth while you were rummaging around in there, Tam?
Not sure where I misplaced it...
pax
There's enough clutter in your place that one could misplace a 1957 Plymouth Fury and not find it for weeks.
" There's enough clutter in your place that one could misplace a 1957 Plymouth Fury and not find it for weeks."
The minute I hit the "Submit" button, I knew some wag that had seen the interior of junquepile du Tam would pipe up.
But, damn... et tu, Brute? ;)
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