The Ferrett (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} theferrett) wrote,@ 2008-03-27 09:52:00 |
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Crushed Things (With Pictures)
Alas, if you remember the tremendous snow we got two weeks ago, we had a plow guy come along. The plow guy did a really good imitation of Christine - from the living room, I could hear the engine roar as the plow and its sharp blade rammed up against the snow bank on the opposite side of the street, then roared forward with a huge shearing sound to ram into the snow in the driveway, the plow blade stripping the top layers off our lawn.
The bones of the moose have been encased in the compressed sheath of a snow bank ever since, too entangled to remove, its remains encrusted in grainy ice. Two weeks of sun have not been enough to extract this poor thing from its glacial coffin. And we walk by the ruins of the animal that used to light our way, and we shed a tear every time.
In other news, my wife stepped on my glasses the other day, necessitating an emergency trip to Lenscrafters. It'd been three years since my last visit but have been putting it off, since a) I like my glasses, b) glasses in my style are hard to find (I can't stand nose pads), and c) I'd been straining at the computer screen a little and dammit I am not ready for bifocals.
As it turns out, for the first time in thirty-eight years, I heard words that had never crossed my ears before: "Your vision's gotten better." Turns out that nearsighted people frequently gain back some sight when they approach middle age, and I'd gone from a solid 6.0 in both eyes to a 5.75 in one and a 5.5 in the other. Go me!
But anyway, I thought y'all should see what I look like in these new glasses, so I did the MySpace shot - man, is it hard to get your whole face in there! (Plus, my hair went all wonky, but that's the way it usually is, so fuck it.) But for the first time, I think I've finally gotten a photo that gets across the way I think my eyes look:
And finally, a word to the wise: Do not drink and play Rock Band. Otherwise, if you have some friends over, you may be totally thrashing to the solo in "Dani California" on the couch and then you will tip the couch over backwards and gouge your arm very deeply. Here! Have a gratuitous wound!
Some of you will no doubt complain that you weren't expecting a reasonably icky photo of a cut on your friends' list. To which I say HA HA, SURPRISE WOUNDSECKS. But wait! It gets worse! Let's ask the old question:
Oh, yeah. That's what I'm talking about. Every once in a while, you folks need to remember that I'm a twelve-year-old boy who thinks that injuries are still really cool. Hey, wanna see this wart on my knee?
Alas, if you remember the tremendous snow we got two weeks ago, we had a plow guy come along. The plow guy did a really good imitation of Christine - from the living room, I could hear the engine roar as the plow and its sharp blade rammed up against the snow bank on the opposite side of the street, then roared forward with a huge shearing sound to ram into the snow in the driveway, the plow blade stripping the top layers off our lawn.
The bones of the moose have been encased in the compressed sheath of a snow bank ever since, too entangled to remove, its remains encrusted in grainy ice. Two weeks of sun have not been enough to extract this poor thing from its glacial coffin. And we walk by the ruins of the animal that used to light our way, and we shed a tear every time.
In other news, my wife stepped on my glasses the other day, necessitating an emergency trip to Lenscrafters. It'd been three years since my last visit but have been putting it off, since a) I like my glasses, b) glasses in my style are hard to find (I can't stand nose pads), and c) I'd been straining at the computer screen a little and dammit I am not ready for bifocals.
As it turns out, for the first time in thirty-eight years, I heard words that had never crossed my ears before: "Your vision's gotten better." Turns out that nearsighted people frequently gain back some sight when they approach middle age, and I'd gone from a solid 6.0 in both eyes to a 5.75 in one and a 5.5 in the other. Go me!
But anyway, I thought y'all should see what I look like in these new glasses, so I did the MySpace shot - man, is it hard to get your whole face in there! (Plus, my hair went all wonky, but that's the way it usually is, so fuck it.) But for the first time, I think I've finally gotten a photo that gets across the way I think my eyes look:
And finally, a word to the wise: Do not drink and play Rock Band. Otherwise, if you have some friends over, you may be totally thrashing to the solo in "Dani California" on the couch and then you will tip the couch over backwards and gouge your arm very deeply. Here! Have a gratuitous wound!
Some of you will no doubt complain that you weren't expecting a reasonably icky photo of a cut on your friends' list. To which I say HA HA, SURPRISE WOUNDSECKS. But wait! It gets worse! Let's ask the old question:
Separated at Birth? Ferrett's Wound and The Eye of Sauron
Oh, yeah. That's what I'm talking about. Every once in a while, you folks need to remember that I'm a twelve-year-old boy who thinks that injuries are still really cool. Hey, wanna see this wart on my knee?
