It's not about the house.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007


Okay, dang, I really wish I'd had time to post all of this shoot as it happened, but I didn't, because I was in a hurry, which I still am, which you'll see why, but here goes...

First of all, I got all pissed off at the old guy across the street this morning because I thought he was standing out there with his hose in his hand watering his driveway (and, despite what I may or may not have posted yesterday, I mean that literally). I could see him out there, I could smell water on the pavement, and it hasn't rained in days. Why the hell would anybody need to be watering his driveway? Not that I'm so green as to be sad about the water waste or anything. I could give a shit. I just like to get all pissed off at the neighbors.

But then I went to look through the kitchen at a better look at the asshole, and I realized that the smell was coming from the crockpot. Turns out, when you put two brass hinges in a crockpot and turn the thing on high for two and a half hours, it smells exactly -- but exactly -- like a rainstorm on hot asphalt. If you take a ddep enough snif you can even taste it. Tastes like chewing tinfoil.

That made me laugh but I couldn't post then because I was late for work.

And now I gotta go dump the crock pot out and see what we're looking at before Johnny gets home.

More later...

You're going to just have to forgive the typos, I don't have time!

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