Sorry if your feedreader burped up a story with a broken link abut Bill Nye. I was doing some cleanup work in the archives, and accidentally republished a blurb from 2006. Please put down the torches and pitchforks, and go back to your homes.
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Spotted On The Street
October 10th, 2008 by Oskar Kennedy
The sleeves of a grey sweat shirt, neatly cut off and left lying on the sidewalk. Their cuffs were just barely not touching, like star crossed lovers, unable to quite reach each other before their tragic and obscenely romantic deaths.
I am suddenly obsessed with wondering why someone would leave their sleeves lying on the sidewalk. Did you Hulk out, with enough warning that you were able to cut off your sleeves before your newly massive biceps burst out of them? Did you have to participate in an impromptu Flashdance routine? Was the weather so much warmer than you expected that the only way you could avoid massive, lurking pit stains was to open your underarms to the breeze?
This is what happens when I can’t sleep at night. My daytime brain turns mundane littering into something absurdly dramatic.
