March 14 = 3/14 + 1:59 = 3.14159. I'm not making this scheise up!
Montreal is thawing. City workers are out in droves, sweeping up all the cigarette buts and joint roaches that have been hiding under the snow. Rainy rain has washed the snow away. On the streets anyway, we still have about 2 feet in our backyard but soon, it too will melt and die. Har. I even wore a non-winter coat today. I was maybe pushing it a tad, but I'm ready to rock, as it were.
So a bit of an absence lately from the old blogaroo. WHY didn't I call my blog that?
Anyway, so what could I tell you?
That I bought a new vacuum cleaner? I did:
It sucks, in a good way.
Or that I went to a naturopath and now I have a brand new morning torture routine that involves drinking a million different sorts of utterly disgusting substances? It's true:
A healthy digestive tract means luck in love and eternal happiness amongst the celestial clouds of the Karinians. Salamé! Once again, I thank Tim and Eric for there beautifully demented gifts of comedy for that one.
That the one good thing that came out of being sick for almost 2 weeks was that I could sing along wicked-good to Elvis Costello with my cold voice? I don't know why this phenomena exists, but it works. Try it next time you have a cold.
Gotta go. Being spied on by secret agents.
2 comments:
Elvis looks on the verge of a breakthrough there. You're vaccuum's not bad either.
Not bad? Hah! Why it was so quiet and easy to use, I almost thought it wasn't working, but it was. So sleek and powerful, so efficient and modern (pronounce: moderin). Truly a superior tool of cleansingness.
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