Lorange: A blog about life, music, and how it happens to me in Los Angeles-ish
inspired by actual events
Ironing is for men
Step 1: Following instructions for a T-shirt transfer aka iron-on, I placed a large sheet over my kitchen table to create the ironing things on fabric location. Instructions actually called for a pillow case not realizing that I have two such things in my possession and they're both on pillows. Step 2: Warm iron up for 5 min.s - no steam. Step 2.5: Realized I over dialed past the non-steam setting to the off placement and the heat did not engage. Repeat heat did not engage - wait 5 more minutes.
Step 3: Iron sheet, then iron blank shirt on previously ironed sheet. Boring but note kick ass craftsman automotive tool cart-shed Xmas gift from the ex-in-laws.
Consider: I do not work on cars
Consider: This is in my kitchen and not in my garage
Step 4: Using two hands blah blah - iron it already. Step 5: Peel off backing when cool to the touch
Step 5.5: It will be cool to touch after two minutes, not before fucktard.
Step 6: Run hand under water to diminish that flesh burning sensation
A couple weeks ago I was sitting on a hallway bench staring at the wall. Friends were on their way and the Honey Pot stopped by to chat for a few minutes wasting time until her equipment showed up. As she got up to wander around again, a boy and girl seated along the bar made introductions to her. Listening (not minding my own business) I remained seated on the bench studying a mosaic of a bullfighter in the midst of battle, sipping my Newcastle. I smiled to strangers passing through to use the bathrooms around the corner. I was bored out of my mind. I wondered if my thoughts were being read and felt that tingle of someone watching me. I rubbed the upper lip in preparation, then looked around my little area for the source of my paranoia and probably by chance the girl and I made direct eye contact. Brief awkward acknowledgments with matching half smiles faded slower than our gazes turned from each other. She reminded me of Whiskey Girl in looks and age which threw me off a bit whe
I had a flat this Friday, not that big of a deal normally, except I managed to snap the stem as I was removing a lug nut. Wonderful. More money that I don't have. I'm getting sick of tires, my numerous flats, gas prices, traffic. If I wasn't getting such a good price on rent I would move closer, but why pay what I'm currently paying for far less space in a worse neighborhood? Even with the gas savings I would nearly be at the same spot I am now. We'll see if Just Tires can fix my problem and/or hopefully replace it under the service plan I paid for. Good chance the obscene amount of miles I've put on my might have over shot the plan limitations, which will force me to pay out of pocket. Grr. I have 99,700 miles on my car as of last night. That means I'm doing @ 25-30,000 miles a year. Yikes! Oh I'm sick again, spending the weekend sleeping, not getting my tire fixed, and writing stuff for the other blog. Sometimes I wish no one knew about this on