What's all this then*? Photographer, digital artist, appreciator of chickens, frequently found in the basement at NatGeo, wearer of wool socks, and I've been bouncing around this terrible website since 2010—I'm sticking around until the bitter end.*See title for one potential answer to this vexing question.
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The rare Arkansas cube snake can grow up to 7 feet long and also high and wide
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He was as tall as he was tall, and his eyes were the color they were. To describe his hair one would say that he had some. His face had all the features you'd expect, and none of the ones you wouldn't. "There he is," people would often say of him, but only when he was there. And they were right.
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"Tricycle on which Mr. Ferry crossed the English channel" from Science new ser.:v.2 (1883). Full text here.
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The 13th century Swedish peasant boy who's crashing on my couch keeps eating my leftover General Tso's. I always tell him he can order his own but he's all "oh no, just wonton soup is fine with me, it reminds me of winters at home by the fire" but when I open the fridge the next day, what do I see? Not my leftovers! I don't even think they had wontons in medieval Sweden.
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I respect the moon's unwillingness to be photographed on a phone
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Discord servers are outside of my natural habitat so I'm never sure of what to do when I'm in one
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Ive hired 2,000 finches to eat your freshly sown lawn seed
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There was simply no way we were going to get out of this one alive. Biscotti Alfresco, Italy's number-one pastry chef and number-two assassin, was hot on our heels. It had been so long on the run, that I could barely remember what started this whole thing. Had something to do with pizza, I told my taxi driver, who was too busy trying to run over every moped and scooter in Rome to listen to my story.
In case nobody has ever told you, let me be the first. It is incredibly difficult to enjoy your family vacation when a trained killer stalks you across the entire country. A couple times now, he's gotten close. We were hanging out at the Trevi Fountain when a little old lady in the crowd threw a knife at us. You guessed it: just a normal person angry at our abuse of their cultural norms, but it could have been Biscotti.
Really, the prudent thing to do would be just to leave the country. That's what the embassy told us to do, right before Mr. Alfresco burst in through the window and fought a bunch of security guards. This kind of advice does make sense, but our plane tickets are not refundable and our travel insurance explicitly does not cover "incensing a trained assassin by disrespecting a national dish," which makes me wonder how often this kind of thing happens. Right there in the fine print. I felt like such a dumbass for not noticing it before.
We've only got about seven more days in the country. Even with the extra stress, we're having a lot of fun. I'm pretty sure that by wearing disguises, changing up our train reservations at the last moment, and never going anywhere near a pizzeria for the rest of our lives, we'll be fine. Hey, who are you anyway? Why are you wearing that crazy mask?
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