If ever one comes to visit and we are dead, it’s dad’s fault. I woke this morning with a pounding headache and wondered if perhaps it was a hangover. It was. A hangover from noxious, chemical, motor fumes. Dad was up early this morning and by 8:00 a.m. had poisoned all the breathable air in the entire house – up and down stairs. I have no idea what all he was doing and with what, yet it wasn’t until he came in for dinner that the odor dissipated…and somehow turned up as a flavor in the Easter dinner I prepared. I still have a headache.
Does bird poop take the paint off a car? And why does a broken old wooden boat with cow poop in it get a covered garage space and my car doesn’t? AND why can’t bird poop be all black instead of white…so at the very least it will blend with the color of my car? When I was in London on a college trip a pigeon pooped on my head. For real. That’s how I feel every day when I walk out to my car and there is bird poop on it. When I lived in Atlanta, I hated when it rained because it made my car dirty. Now living in Omaha, I pray for rain to wash the bird poop off my car.
you are so so funny I miss ya
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