Fredag (och mera strumpor)

För övrigt så traskade maken nyss iväg med en ryggsäck full med kräftor, öl och Skåne på väg mot en båttripp med gamla kompisar. Och här sitter jag och sorterar (och fotograferar!) strumpor. Oerhört tragiskt. Life sucks.

Eller som Denis Leary säger:

“Most people think life sucks, and then you die. Not me. I beg to differ. I think life sucks, then you get cancer, then your dog dies, your wife leaves you, the cancer goes into remission, you get a new dog, you get remarried, you owe ten million dollars in medical bills but you work hard for thirty-five years and you pay it back and then -- one day -- you have a massive stroke, your whole right side is paralyzed, you have to limp along the streets and speak out of the left side of your mouth and drool but you go into rehabilitation and regain the power to walk and the power to talk and then -- one day -- you step off a curb at Sixty-seventh Street, and BANG you get hit by a city bus and then MAYBE you die.” (Denis Leary, No Cure For Cancer)