About 20 minutes ago, I was sitting up in my room doing some reading, when down in the kitchen there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Not, alas, Santa, but some prospective burglar in a green coat who’d apparently managed to loudly knock over my housemate’s bike within moments of entering. He was scared off when I came barreling down the stairs, and gave a hearty “Fuck you!” ere he fled out of sight. He did, however, leave behind the charming little implement pictured above, which I guess he’d put down momentarily when I surprised him. At any rate, I assume that’s the only reason it’s sitting on my dining room table rather than buried in my skull.
Blogging on topics of more general interest to resume after I’ve gotten a cup of coffee and smoked half a pack of cigarettes.