Once again we ended up playing Uno Spin, and once again Carman had a grungy game. What you're about to see is extremely embarrassing....for him:
|Ahem. Hamilton - the point is to get RID of your cards, NOT rack 'em up.|
The night was fun. We were going along, doing our thing, everyone secretly in awe of my skillz, when Shilpa (a fellow crusty lungee) ran out of O2. Pamela stuck Shilpa's tank on the big tank for a refill.
No big thing.
The problem with liquid oxygen is that it is stored at -180°. Which means there is sometimes a bit of freezing action that takes place. The spout can frost up, which is normal, it just takes a short time and it melts off. Last night however, the little tank froze onto the big tank (I wish they named their tanks, it would be much more entertaining) and the big tank started throwing up oxygen all over the place.
None of us had a sweet clue what to do. Fling ourselves off the balcony? Record a horror movie? Have a dance comp?
An emergency call to Vital Aire was placed. Buddy was basically having a rockin' Friday night and said to wheel it onto a tiled floor and just leave it.
|Starting to look like a little alien person thingy|
|Just another day at the spa|
It felt like we were in the middle of a freaking prom with those mist machines. All that was missing was funky music, crazy hormones and awkward dance moves.
Today we crashed the St. Lawrence Market. There's a woman there who, every weekend, sells handmade jewelery. Since I'm me, she's given me a deal (pardon the modesty).
I'm starting to wonder if I have a problem:
|Say it with me: "ring a-ddic-tion"|
She's a real Torontonian.