They might have been frosted - obviously I couldn’t climb up to see. They let in some light from outdoors, but heavily tinted.
Oh, and one of the stores was Castro Convertibles (their sign was also lit up bright blue) which confused me at the time since it didn’t seem to sell cars, only furniture.
That made me laugh - but then I stopped to think about why because I wasn’t sure it was the sort of thing that normally would. I then had the image of a bald latino man with a retractable toupee, which I don’t really find all that funny. I’m tired.
Hear, hear. I smell worse than the average person (wait - let me re-phrase that - I have a worse sense of smell) and I STILL say most people wear far too much perfume/cologne.
Hint: if I’m walking down an empty hallway, and I’m still gagging? Whoever walked there previously needs to tone it waaaaaay back.
Mowed through an ant mound last Saturday, and I still have to be careful about getting dressed in the morning, as I own exactly one pair of shoes that don’t rub and irritate the welts.
I was gonna say: you should complain to HR, and then … I re-read your 1st sentence. I’m sorry.
Ah yes, the sneak attack ant mounds. I’ve learned my lesson about standing pretty much anywhere in my yard without checking my feet to see if I have dozens of ants crawling up my legs. I’m sure I’ve entertained the neighbours countless times when they’ve seen me doing the Ant Attack Dance. :eek: :mad:
What is this, 16th century France? People don’t have to walk around smothered in attar of roses and civet oil to overwhelm their putrid body odors. We have washing machines, and showers, and hot water. And scent-free deodorants. So yes, if someone is regularly dumping a tank car’s worth of chemicals on themselves every morning, I think telling them to tone it down is very much OK. The alternative, a scent-free work place, seems a bit draconian, but if people can’t take the hint, that’s what happens.
In the old days, if you couldn’t stand someone’s perfume, I assume you just took another drag on your cigarette, but that’s not an option for your current office worker
I just heard that my best online friend, my Second Life partner, and someone that I trusted enough to give my mailing address to…has had a massive stroke.
This just really sucks. I love that man and I feel so helpless. He’s not only in a different state, he’s in a different country. There is nothing I can do but pray that he recovers and hope that his daughter keeps me posted.
Thank you. Of course, this is now all about me. Who’s going to help me slog through the complete works of Julius Cesar now? I’m good with the root words, but the grammer is kicking my ass.
When Bill saw me crying, he added more fucks and damns to the air. I’m not sure if it was because Bill really cared about my friend, or if he’s afraid that I’ll start practicing my Latin on him.
Bill’s latest beer isn’t so chewy as the last batch. I won’t say that I like it, but I did compliment him about being able to see through it.