Dec. 8th, 2001

robotech_master: (Default)

I am a Grass-Covered Car.

I rival maladjusted shoes with my intense rectangular water. My salty phobias give way to weightless Japanese limestone with walruses. A gifted butter elevates my jazz pickles.

How do wooden desires roll decent foxes? The Utterly Surreal Test

robotech_master: (Default)
Well, I'm sitting here in my room watching the psychokitty as he sits on top of my computer and peers hawk-like out the window at whatever he sees outside. I'm working on getting my room cleaned up again, most notably the kitchen. If I can get the kitchen clean, then box up all my dishes and silverware and stuff, and set the bug-bombs off, I should be decent in this place for a while. Kill all the roaches, anyway.

The only problem is, I find the containers I have aren't quite big enough to pack all my cookware into. I need to get some more from somewhere if I'm going to move all the stuff out while I bugbomb.

I was thinking of setting the bombs off today, but on second thought, it seems like tomorrow--when I'm working eight and a half hours--would be a better idea. Give the bug poison plenty of time to work so it'll be more likely the bugs will be dead when I get back, not merely stunned.

Or maybe I'll set off half of them tonight and the rest tomorrow. I got two whole boxes of them, after all. I want to be sure of my kills.

August 2020

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