The (trash) Man took my life away. 50 gallons of books, magazines, toys, computer crap, pr0n, clothes (not fit for goodwill) and personal memories I'll never miss.
Actually, the fucker was over flowing, more like 65 gallons, but that's counting the minimal refuse I produce on a weekly basis.
How close am I to a dance floor of my very own? Eight pages and another 50 gallons away.
Pages first. They're due tomarrow at noon. I probably won't get to the 50 gallons this week :-/
