Nothing Lasts
I'm hardly one of those broads that go ga-ga over shoes. But blast it all, I wanna pair of these when and if they go on the market. Yes, I'm a trendy hipster chump. And watch they don't make them in my size. Me and my bleedin' hot dog feets.
So it's Memorial Day, or was I suppose. Being in downtown Norfolk yesterday for brunch with Mike and Al reminded me again how much I miss living down there, and how Joe and Goofy Steve and I would throw our annual Memorial Day cookout in our tiny Ghent apartment on our rickety fire escape. Oh, the things we did with food. Like a drunken Ted Dean taking slices of Kraft American cheese and sticking things from my dresser drawers to them like safety pins and metal bottle caps and cramming them into his mouth, and me screaming like some freaked-out mother with a toddler and tackling him with my hand down his throat trying to fish the dangerous cheese from his gullet. And all of us putting food into containers and placing them out in the street and watching cars run over them from the second story balcony, and how that 18-wheeler totally obliterated that Pringles can full of chocolate pudding which sprayed all over the cars parked on the side of Colonial Avenue. And I think that was the same party where my favorite Riot Gal-Pal Monrovia was shooting that pellet gun off the same balcony and shot out the Farm Fresh sign across the street and sent some old lady screaming and scattering back down to the old folks home. Or maybe that was another time. Eh, oh well, enough boring you bastids with memories of the wild and reckless Bohemian mid-90's. I have a question, especially for you homeowners, and for what few of you who maybe still read this (Greg? Hi!) I hope you can advise me.
My air conditioning seems to be working perfectly fine.. downstairs. Upstairs is a whole 'nuther matter. I know that heat rises, but the vents just aren't blowing out at full steam it seems. Or I don't know what it is. At the advice of a friend I tried closing all the downstairs vents to force the air up through the upstairs vents and it's helped a little, and by a little I mean it's now merely hot instead of oppressive stifling surface of the sun choking me in my sleep hot. But it's still not coming out as hard as it should. And now that it's officially summer, beach summer considering where I live, and it's only going to get hotter -- well, I was hoping someone might have a clue as to what might be the problem before I call the AC service man and have him charge me out the wazoo for something I could have probably taken care of on my own. Right now I just stepped out of a cold shower and I feel like I need to get back in again before I hit the sack. Anyway, any advice would be welcome, and pretty much cherished at this point.
Lastly, Charles Nelson Reilly does a Bic Ink Crayon commercial.
Rest in peace, beloved icon of my youth.
So it's Memorial Day, or was I suppose. Being in downtown Norfolk yesterday for brunch with Mike and Al reminded me again how much I miss living down there, and how Joe and Goofy Steve and I would throw our annual Memorial Day cookout in our tiny Ghent apartment on our rickety fire escape. Oh, the things we did with food. Like a drunken Ted Dean taking slices of Kraft American cheese and sticking things from my dresser drawers to them like safety pins and metal bottle caps and cramming them into his mouth, and me screaming like some freaked-out mother with a toddler and tackling him with my hand down his throat trying to fish the dangerous cheese from his gullet. And all of us putting food into containers and placing them out in the street and watching cars run over them from the second story balcony, and how that 18-wheeler totally obliterated that Pringles can full of chocolate pudding which sprayed all over the cars parked on the side of Colonial Avenue. And I think that was the same party where my favorite Riot Gal-Pal Monrovia was shooting that pellet gun off the same balcony and shot out the Farm Fresh sign across the street and sent some old lady screaming and scattering back down to the old folks home. Or maybe that was another time. Eh, oh well, enough boring you bastids with memories of the wild and reckless Bohemian mid-90's. I have a question, especially for you homeowners, and for what few of you who maybe still read this (Greg? Hi!) I hope you can advise me.
My air conditioning seems to be working perfectly fine.. downstairs. Upstairs is a whole 'nuther matter. I know that heat rises, but the vents just aren't blowing out at full steam it seems. Or I don't know what it is. At the advice of a friend I tried closing all the downstairs vents to force the air up through the upstairs vents and it's helped a little, and by a little I mean it's now merely hot instead of oppressive stifling surface of the sun choking me in my sleep hot. But it's still not coming out as hard as it should. And now that it's officially summer, beach summer considering where I live, and it's only going to get hotter -- well, I was hoping someone might have a clue as to what might be the problem before I call the AC service man and have him charge me out the wazoo for something I could have probably taken care of on my own. Right now I just stepped out of a cold shower and I feel like I need to get back in again before I hit the sack. Anyway, any advice would be welcome, and pretty much cherished at this point.
Lastly, Charles Nelson Reilly does a Bic Ink Crayon commercial.
Rest in peace, beloved icon of my youth.
posted by Melissa at 11:40 PM
2 Comments:
I dunno about a special edition shoe such as that, but New Balance is pretty good about having lots of unique sizes.
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