The first disc of Californication. I had heard it was kind of sucky, but it was much, much better than I thought it would be. Good enough that we're going to watch the rest of the season (which is doubly amazing since we haven't even started watching new Weeds yet).
The deafening sound of, apparently, a heavy-duty drilling rig that's boring through—I'm just guessing here—a deep, abandoned well that's been filled with hundreds of thousands of thick metal dinner plates. It's been echoing across the Qwest Field parking lot, coming from King Street Station. It sounds like they're destroying Amtrak.
A keg of Rainier, for the Post-Natal Kegger (and, hence, a deductible business expense!) (what, you didn't know you were at a client party?)
A Roku Netflix box, which we aren't hooking up until we're done with our deadline for Beasts: Book Two. The tension is nigh unbearable. Unopened consumer electronics? Sacre bleu!
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