I know the city has a lot on its hands right now, but this decision was made pre-flood. Maybe a fraction of a percent of rebuilding money can go toward buying a couple of bricks, because this looks awful.
I know the city has a lot on its hands right now, but this decision was made pre-flood. Maybe a fraction of a percent of rebuilding money can go toward buying a couple of bricks, because this looks awful.
Hint: it’s somewhere near Canal Park
I’m guessing this will be an easy one. But seriously, this many of you can’t make that turn?! I must not suck enough at driving.
I don’t get it. Is the billboard telling me I need fun in Hulk/Caveman language? Does Roper’s need fun people to facilitate a positive atmosphere and therefore generate more customers? Does the billboard proclaim that people in general need to have fun in their lives? Is there really someone (like Mr. Norman Fell in Three’s Company) named Roper? Or does the place belong to all people who rope things, in which case the apostrophe is misplaced? This is what I’m asking you.
(In a small warehouse with a storage loft above, events happening in a slow-motion dream-like state)
Matt: (voiceover, thinking aloud) “As I did every afternoon, I was checking-in the days’ shipment we received from the wholesaler. I heard a rustle directly above me. I looked up into the bright fluorescent rafter lights, and a squeaky female voice cried out: ‘Hi, Matt!’ It was too late. Already in mid-air was Bonnie, my 300-pound stalker. She was falling toward me: prone, arms and legs outstretched, naked, and peeing. Splash. Darkness.”
Act 3: Scene 5
(on the homestead)
Paw: Son, go gets me one of them there keepin’ fixtures from out yonder.
Son: Out yonder? I done thought ya telled me to puts the keepin’ fixtures ’round back, Paw!
Oh it says clocks. Nevermind.