on the road with mattress springs
Today I learned that the Golden Glades is an interchange in South Florida where the Florida Turnpike, I-95, US 441, state road 9, and the Palmetto Expressway all come together. It sounds like a mess.
In other news, if you take your mattress springs that, after a night out in the back yard, no longer smell like Febreze, but still make you kind of sick, off to the do-it-yourself car wash, you can make them all shiny and almost ok. Wrapping them up seemed to help, so they're in the bedroom under the futon masquerading as box springs. We'll see how it goes.
In entertainment news, I went into a Blockbuster for the first time in over two years, and I can now definitively state that Blockbuster smells like plastic. Also, my husband doesn't yet tolerate Twizzlers.
Which actually says that he felt well enough to try them, even if I laughed at him for it. We're starting to wonder if pressurizing the house did more than just make some bad days better. It's entirely possible it's making our good days better, too, hence the Blockbuster and Twizzlers run, but there's really no way to know for sure, so have a picture of something that made people stare.
The ones on the bottom are the ok ones. I don't think I'll ever tolerate the top ones, and we've been working on those for a month, but they were new instead of used.
Speaking of used, we couldn't fit all the padding we cut off the ok springs into our trash bin, so that ground squirrel that bit my shirt thinks it's hit the mother lode of fluff. It bundled up some of the fluff with a thread in it, though, and apparently pea-sized brains aren't good for much, because you never saw a more frustrated tiny squirrel. I recognize that this is a terrible picture, but if you click on it, you can probably make out the thread and the pissed-off little squirrel.
In other news, if you take your mattress springs that, after a night out in the back yard, no longer smell like Febreze, but still make you kind of sick, off to the do-it-yourself car wash, you can make them all shiny and almost ok. Wrapping them up seemed to help, so they're in the bedroom under the futon masquerading as box springs. We'll see how it goes.
In entertainment news, I went into a Blockbuster for the first time in over two years, and I can now definitively state that Blockbuster smells like plastic. Also, my husband doesn't yet tolerate Twizzlers.
Which actually says that he felt well enough to try them, even if I laughed at him for it. We're starting to wonder if pressurizing the house did more than just make some bad days better. It's entirely possible it's making our good days better, too, hence the Blockbuster and Twizzlers run, but there's really no way to know for sure, so have a picture of something that made people stare.
The ones on the bottom are the ok ones. I don't think I'll ever tolerate the top ones, and we've been working on those for a month, but they were new instead of used.
Speaking of used, we couldn't fit all the padding we cut off the ok springs into our trash bin, so that ground squirrel that bit my shirt thinks it's hit the mother lode of fluff. It bundled up some of the fluff with a thread in it, though, and apparently pea-sized brains aren't good for much, because you never saw a more frustrated tiny squirrel. I recognize that this is a terrible picture, but if you click on it, you can probably make out the thread and the pissed-off little squirrel.
posted by missmolly at 10:40 PM
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