Minor Absurdity

The microwave has apparently decided that I am, in fact, an alien creature with mandibles and poor fashion sense who has come to this planet to hunt humans for sport. As such it counts down time in bizarre Predator-symbols instead of actual numbers. The microwave has long been proven smarter than I am, so I'll just take its word on this one. I do hope it doesn't decide to clear the area of evidence by self-destructing, however.

I have a hip flask. Like, a good quality flask here. A drinkin' flask for drinkin'. I have only vague ideas as to what I'm going to do with it, as actually using it to drink in places I'm not supposed to seems like a good way to get fired and/or arrested. Still, very nice flask.

The closet is filling with dirty clothes because the laundry basket is full of clean clothes. In a few days I'll be wearing socks on my hands and mittens on my feet. A sad state of affairs, sure, but at least now the shark jaw is hung properly.

Glass Octopus.