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March 15, 2004
The Dumpsters Provide.
There's an abandoned office building down the street, getting the gut-rehab treatment. Chances are summore condos are going up, because that's what's always going up these days.
Anyway, they've been dumping most of the building's innards out on the streets for the trashpicking filth to cart away under cover of night. Filing cabinets, chairs, desks, bookshelves, that sort of thing. And last weekend, I obliged them.
Obviously, it wasn't covered with mini B-movie posters and stickers when I found it. But for some reason, I always seem to have a good supply of this sort of crap lying around, just in case something needs to be defaced.
I won't recount what it took to get this thing down the street and up to the tenth floor, because you don't want to hear it and I'd rather forget it myself. Suffice to say this thing is made of steel, six feet tall, and I need to do more weight training.
The monochrome stiff in the upper right-hand corner is saying "It's useless, even harmful for man to think." Which reminds me: Polls are open tomorrow, Chicagoans. Hope you're planning on limbering up that stylus-hand for when November rolls around.
Also, I added my good buddy Zack to my friends list, because the damn Luddite finally got a site up. Go visit.
Posted by Spike at March 15, 2004 11:18 PM
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