#entering the garage

[bobbie-robron]

Entering the garage…

[cozylittleartblog]

JUST GUYS BEIN' DOODS

redraw of the meme under the cut

original by @knightmarebug

[trivialbob]

Taking the grand dogs to the brewery.

Sheila and I have Jack and Ali's dogs this weekend. Not that that will get in my way of going to the brewery.

Friday night it was Luca's turn. My three dogs were pissed, watching me put Luca in the truck while they were locked in the house. Luca was really curious about this new place. The boy was well behaved, though he never sat down.

Luca likes weekend naps as much as I do. He also likes to sleep on top of me. I don't mind a dog resting its head on my ankles. Luca goes that extra mile and tries to get his entire dog body on me.

Tonight I took Lily along. Once again, my dogs were terribly displeased being left home. With Sheila working both nights, there's no way I can take more than one dog.

Lily was also intrigued being somewhere unfamiliar. She thought strangers should pet her. Several times while I talked to someone next to me, Lily would turn to another person, stand on her back legs, put on a look of abandonment and dispair, and try to get attention.

It worked.

Lily likes to sleep in our guest room. Or Sulley's room, as we also know it. Sulley didn't feel like sharing the bed with Lily, so during my nap he got on the bed with me. And Ella. And Oliver. I managed to actually get some sleep but was sweaty and hot when I woke up.

Tonight I had a nice conversation with one of the other regulars. He's an attorney and mediator. His work stories are interesting to me. One of my favorite bartenders was working tonight too. I like hearing what's going on in his life too.

Today's nap won't interfere with a good night's sleep. The forecast says it's going to drop down to 52°F tonight. I turned off the a/c and opened all the windows. It won't matter how many dogs try to sleep on the bed.

[cyrsed]

ok

[batsplat]

idc about people being misinformed about silly sports stuff because life's too short BUT there has been one too many things recently where I'm a bit... hm. I feel the rossi/lorenzo garage situation is long enough ago now that the general understanding of this dynamic is... only very loosely correlated to reality... and now it's being discussed a lot and a lot of the takes aren't really... you know. I don't actually care about fact checking because again. who cares. but a lot of the times it's like... the truth is more interesting than this version of events that is being spread around feat. heavy flanderisation I swear...

[batemanofficial]

sitting in my truck in the dark. one of life's great pre-work pleasures

[literary-potato]

At first I thought it was the latent California in me, but no, that was, scientifically speaking, a fuck ton of rain that fell precisely as I was leaving the grocery store.

About half an inch in under half an hour, to be more specific.

[hauntingblue]

ACT 2 OVER LETSGOOOO

[pinkfey]

i struggle

[astronomodome]

i need to answer the asks in my askbox at some point

[somelazyassartist]

Hm. It may take me until tomorrow to finish my post. I fact checked what I wanted to fact check but now I just keep getting distracted going through my books because it's fun reading all 7 I have right now front to back for the 16th time in a row lmao

[actualmichelle]

whenever I order food delivery I basically just put in the delivery instructions"do whatever throw it in the dirt and leave, just please don't talk to me" lol

[vilesbian]

I'm a pretty competent city driver, even in unfamiliar cities. But this trip has just been watch me make bizarre decisions in parking garages.

[well-thought-not-said]

i mean, technically i'm not breaking and entering, since i was expected, but like....the kids i'm babysitting weren't answering the door, and the garage was wide open.....

[batemanofficial]

i hate watching movies in my parents house. especially given my taste in films i'll invariably be watching This Is Cannibalism We Clown In This MF Take Your Sensitive Ass Back To Scream III: Director's Cut and my poor father will walk in and go "whatcha watchin 😀"

[seat-safety-switch]

When we were kids, we didn't have access to cool power tools. Every summer, when the soapbox derby race was coming, we'd break into my neighbour's garage while he was at work. Then, we'd use his drill press, lathe, table saw, all the fun tools. Over the course of a week, a race car was produced, which is more than the workshop ever made during the rest of the year.

Sure, we could have asked him if we could have borrowed his tools, but no doubt he would want to be there to supervise. And then he'd want to help. We'd never get done while we were busy indulging the suburb-tinged fantasies of someone who didn't take wood shop and chose instead to idly worship at the altar of Television Presents: The Fantasy of Bob Vila in adulthood.

One year, Old Man Garrett got a security system. Probably this was because Ted (fucking Ted) didn't clean up the sawdust that one time like we asked him to. The old man must have seen the footprint, and realized that he did not wear size-seven Nikes. Child thieves, casing his precious table saw! Now, our humble breaking-and-entering had become significantly more difficult than "reach a coat hanger under the door and pull the emergency release."

With the help of some of the high-school kids who were taking electronics class, we managed to defeat the security system. We did so using an ancient Japanese technique known as "distract Old Man Garrett while he's setting it, and then cut the wires to the panel." I think it loses something in translation, but you get the gist of it. That year's car was especially sweet.

In adulthood, I got drunk and bragged to some work buddies about our little scam. They responded in abject horror, because I was still occupying the weird hump in the middle of a normal distribution of "acceptable crimes." It was terrifying to them to see one of their own, one of the suburbanites, speak openly about largely-harmless property crimes. What if we had been hurt, they shrieked. Around the water cooler, I would become a pariah, unless I could make amends.

I did hunt down Old Man Garrett after that, still feeling the sting of rejection. He was still on the property, and he still had a beautiful collection of immaculate cabinet-making tools in the garage. I rang his doorbell and, when he answered, I told him the whole story. He laughed.

"I knew it was you dumb shits from the beginning," he bragged. "Fucking Ted -"

"Fucking Ted," I echoed, unconsciously.

"Fucking Ted left his library book on building race cars behind on the workbench that first year. You didn't let him drive, did you?"

I shook my head. "We ran the car into him if the hockey-stick brakes ever failed."

We had a good laugh about the whole thing that evening, and I returned to work with my soul cleansed. It's just a pity Ted didn't know how bad he actually was at crime, before he tried to knock over that liquor store and all.