Are we still tweeting, or what is it called now? X-ing? Because that's what my child did when they were using #SnapchatGirls at 3 in the morning. #GoodbyeTwitter
Those in staying warm at the football game tonight that doesn't involve setting the bleachers on fire because we are talking single-digit temps with wind chill, and the option of not going is not an option.
After picking up my kid from a school event, I parked my car, and started walking in the house. I stopped short: on the floor, right by the door, was the unmistakable slimy glob of a loogie. My spouse had spit on the newly scrubbed garage floor!
Long story, short: I changed out of my pjs, ended moving everything out of the garage, hooked up a hose, and used a big shop brush to wash and scrub the whole garage floor. I finished it off by squeegeeing it dry. And you know what happened next?
I used what was left in my little ice cream bucket to try to rinse away the gunk I had wiped away from the fridge. It wasn't enough, so I refilled my little bucket and threw that down on the floor as well. Still not enough.
Except the grime at the bottom of the fridge wasn't just dirty condensation and corn silk. It had crusty milk from what was probably a long-forgotten gallon of milk that had either a leak or had dripped. It took a little elbow grease, but now finally I think I was done cleaning.
I figured I should make the most of the nice morning and my cleaning supplies so I decided to wipe down the bottom shelf of the fridge. With it in the garage and a place for my husband to dump the ears of corn he buys from farmers market, it gets pretty dirty in there.
It took me less than five minutes, but while I was out there in the garage, I noticed what looked like dark soda or a slushie (frickin slushies!) spilled on the entry door to the house, so I scrubbed it clean, too.
It all started this morning when I decided to clean the door handle of the fridge we have in the garage. It was pretty gunky. I filled an old ice cream bucket with soapy water, brush, and magic eraser. I was still in my grammie jammies.
Same community lost their collective shit because the only #Abblebees was torn down, and a #Starbucks is going up instead. They're upset because "it was the only good place in town to eat." Clearly, those people have never eaten.
Our city has three roundabout, and is planning on adding another. If I know someone is is bitching loudly about what a PITA a roundabout is, I'll never ride with them because clearly they shouldn't be driving at all.
I had two vodka lemonade martinis, and my eyes feel like they have had six. Is this what it feels like for normal people who drink a whole bottle of wine or a 12npack of beer?