And now, a letter.
Dear Heat In My House,
Fuck you. Fuck you and your god damn air in the pipes. When you pull shit like this, I have to go through my house and clean everything. I don't like doing that. My back and legs don't like when I do that, either. My condition does not leave room for this kind of bullshit. It's like you've never met my mother or something.
~ That bitch on the second floor
And last but not least, pictures that I had to clean out of my phone because it was bitching about the lack of space:
It seriously looks like it's going to fall over. Fix it, Walmart. Before someone dies.
If you can't appreciate the irony, then I apologize.
Just a creepy panda bear.
Pretty much the largest jar of mayonnaise either of us has ever seen.
Random bit of sky when my mother was trying to take a picture of this adorable rainbow fragment. It didn't work.
That should do it for me for today. Probably.