Oct
26
2010
The further annals of FML.
Last night I left the office on the late side, lit a cigarette, and walked up Mercer St. towards the N/R. When I reached the corner of Mercer and Prince I raised my Winston to my lips at the precise moment that some balloons hanging from a nearby storefront caught a breeze and swung towards me. Burning ember met thin rubberized circumference of compressed helium and a balloon popped in my face, startling me enough that I accidentally, uncharacteristically, and wholly involuntarily passed a bit of rather audible gas.
I then noticed a rather beautiful woman standing just a few feet to my right laughing so hard she was snorting.
