I got a text from my roommate earlier: "call when you have a chance. bad news."
He said there was a note from the mailman saying the box with my new bike shit was "Under Meter." The box was not under the meter. After a few moments of panic, I had him carefully describe the note to me...
"Where is the note?"
"On the door."
"How is it on the door?"
"Taped." [cue faint, hopeful music]
"Is the tape yellow?"
"Yes." [music builds rapidly]
"Is my signature on the note?"
"Yes." [the sun violently breaks through the clouds]
"I left that note. The mailman hasn't brought the package yet."
"Oh. That's good." [no shit]
A lot of money almost disappeared REAL fast.
Get muddy for me while I tux it up around Na$hvegas.
Listening to a La Roux and the Killers mashup. Super good.
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