Blogspot, 100% Whole Grain.

A plumber came over last night and made our shower operational again. A hair clump had gotten lodged in the drain, so our tub quickly filled up with a soup of toxic goo. As my raven locks are actually rooted deep in my brain, I cannot be at fault. I wanted to shower Thursday, the morning after Justin's birthday, but had to endure physics lab smelling like a combination of Joe's sweat and my tears, as if being forced to calibrate a Coulomb Balance hungover wasn't bad enough already.