Sunday, April 26, 2009


One of the best parts of opening old drawers or wearing old clothes is the possibility of finding old stuff. I used to love coming back to college from winter break and finding random money strewn about my desk drawer and, since I'm a pack rat, wearing an old coat often produces fond memories of past ATM withdrawals in exotic locales like Dedham and Framingham.

Occasionally they can provide mysteries, like today. It did not involve opening an old drawer, but it did come from wearing old drawers (FUCKING ZING.) I broke out my trusty seersucker shorts to wear to work on this gorgeous April day and while fishing in my left pocket I felt a strange rubbery sensation.

Water balloons!

What the hell?

Now, I vaguely remember buying these water balloons before going whitewater rafting last summer, but we didn't use them and there's no way I would bring seersucker shorts camping, anyway.

I think I have some sort of Water Balloon War PTSD, because I can't remember how or why I was armed with these things. If you, or anyone else you know, were in a water baloon fight with me this past summer, please let me know.

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