astounded.
My Twitter friend Goob posted a typically cryptic link to this earlier today. We seem to share an eclectic taste in music, so I pulled it right away; when I first listened, I think I hurt my jaw when it hit the top of my desk.
Author: Uncle Crappy
switched at birth.
It’s a hockey night in Pittsburgh, and on Twitter, that inevitably means a onslaught of letangssexhair hashtags. I’m not entirely clear on who started the best-ever unofficial Penguins hashtag on the whole internet; I do know it began during the series against the Caps, and I’m going guess it was the creation of either @kdudders… Read More switched at birth.
not sure which.
Yesterday’s post was the 900th I’ve written. There’s a lesson there, either in perserverance or stupidity.
demolition.
The box shrubs in front of our house are gone. We both had night shifts at our respective papers today, because of the election, so Mrs. Crappy decided this morning would be perfect to pull up the bushes. The fact that I had instructions from my doc to not lift anything with my left arm… Read More demolition.
fried.
A few years back, I decided have a doctor look at a little sore on my shoulder, that one that didn’t want to heal. It had been there for nearly two years. It would dry up, and I think it was finally going away; then, out of nowhere, it would blister again. I had no… Read More fried.
winged.
If you showed up hungry, you came to the right place. If you left hungry, you did it wrong. Mindbling and Pgha pulled off yet another epic Tweetup, this time bringing us together over a pile of wings from all over town. If you didn’t make it there Saturday evening, you missed: Wings, the best… Read More winged.
