Charity found this listing, in her neighborhood. I know very little about motorcycles, but I'm pretty certain they're supposed to have two wheels. Or is this a motorized unicycle? Man, I'd love to see that. Vrooom!
Someone call the Animal Rescue League! I think they're about to eat that fish. The table's pulled up, the chairs are there... oh, I can't stand to watch.
(wanders off to the kitchen to make a tuna sandwich)
*bonk*
Ow!
*bonk*
Ow!
*bonk*
Ow!
*bonk*
Ow!
*bonk*
Ow!
*bonk*
Ow!
(Found by Kristy)
Hey, buddy. Wanna buy a house?
What do you mean, what kind of house? It's a house, okay? It's just a freaking house. Do you want it or not? What, you want a photo? Oh for... fine. Here's a photo.
There. Happy? It's a house. No, not that one, that one over there, yeah, that one. See, it has a window or something, and a garage, maybe two, I don't know, look, it's just a house! How much information do you need?
Sheesh.
Bob sent me this listing because the custom paint job had caught his eye, but it's this photo that I found particularly disturbing:
When I hear "Los Angeles" I think "earthquake" (admittedly that's not the first thing, but it's up there right below "Luke Perry's forehead" and above "change in an instant, change in an instant"). I don't know how I could sleep with all this dirt piled up, waiting to attack me when the Tectonic Plate Gods become angered.
Look, you can lose sleep over the economy or the election if you want; I'm going to worry that my sacrifices might not be up to date.
