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Good, Clean, Stupid Fun

The 2nd Vaguely-Annual Strange Leisure Scavenger Hunt was this weekend. Marc has some pics up and I think some teams will share theirs soon. While there weren’t as many teams this year, the enthusiasm was great and plenty of nicely stupid stunts were performed. Bribes were received, sex noises were made, mojitos were drunk, cheese was protested and slip-n-slides were done naked. Bug now has a Reputation amongst his neighbors!

http://www.majcher.com/xhibition/images/2004_04_17_strange_leisure/

Abbie and Bug judge the winning “largest bra” entry:

a strange fungal growth, or conjoined twins?

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New Place in the Universe

Saturday I went and looked at a little cottage apartment with my mom, who was in town visiting for Thanksgiving. On a near-whim, I ended up filling out an application for it. So now I’m moving on New Year’s Day! The place is super cute and cool with wood floors, high ceilings and not one but TWO porches, both of which could accomodate porch swings and/or hammocks. Bonus points: the landlord will let me paint it whatever colors I desire. Oh how I have longed to be able to paint my place. Now I must go and play with the ColorViewer to my satisfaction.

Bug and Teno have chided me for ‘moving out of the neighborhood’. A whopping 5 blocks to the south of my current place (on the same street, even) and south of 45th. They may actually have to ride their bikes occasionally instead of walking the 5 blocks. I feel their pain.

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Understatement

Coming out of the grocery store and setting down my bags to unlock my truck door, I spied a grackle on the ground. It was all puffed up with its feathers out and its mouth was open, as if to make a noise. No noise was coming from the bird. It looked really weird. I stepped towards it and it didn’t move. Grackles tend to be rather fearless. At this point I saw it was breathing funny and then it dawned on me: the bird was panting.

“Why don’t you get out of the parking lot and into some shade?” I said to it.

He cocked his head and looked at me with his little yellow I’d-like-to-peck-your-eyes-out if-I-had-the-chance eyes and slowly waddled (still panting) underneath my truck.

It’s hot out.

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