что надо делать?

This is Richard. Not Dick. Posting crude drawings of your friends is so indie, or hipster, or otaku. He kinda has this Tim Curry thing going on, so I tarted him up a bit. Also his eyes aren't that small but chances are he's making this face right now as I type. The white dots all over the blue hoodie he always wears are bits of stevia. He doesn't live with us or anything, but he's sorta like a stray dog that hangs out on our porch. However, we live on a huge hill so we don't get many stray dogs. Just Richard. Not Dick. Here's his website: Not Dick.

Richard, hurry up and manifest the charger so I can make that video for this blog. -трайси

From Rhonda, Bored at Work

From Rachel, The Fire

This is a slightly dramatization of actual events. It is also slightly more Victorian. And slightly more awesome.

Dear Herbert Esq.

Last week during the spate of cold weather we decided that we would much appreciate a roaring fire in the fireplace. Much to our dismay, after we had set the logs ablaze we realized that the cursed flue was malfunctioning. Valiently we tried to redirect the smoke that came pouring into the living room, but to no avail. We fled, choking on the noxious fumes. When the smoke had at last abated enough for us to return, we saw a gruesome sight! The once grey walls were now slightly greyer! The once inoffensive smelling room now brought to mind a dirty campsite!
At first, we felt guilt. We were the ones who had set the fire, and so we were to blame. But upon further thought and reflection, we realized that you hadn't installed any smoke detectors or put any fire extinguishers in the house. At once, our guilt turned to anger. You were trying to kill us! You must have known that we would find the fireplace irresistable in the newly cold weather, yet you guaranteed that the flue was blocked and the resources for stopping the fire missing. What if we had tried to set a fire and then gone to bed, sir??? what then? With no alarm to awaken us, we surely would have suffocated in our sleep. So I say it is you sir, and not us who have caused the upper floor of the house to be a bit, shall we say, smoke cured, and it is you who shall pay the price! By that we mean the price of the cleaning and repainting. We expect the return of the living room to a pristine state in no more than two hours. We also demand that smoke detectors and fire extinguishers are provided at once, lest we grow cold yet again and forget the lessons which this fire should have taught us. We are cold sir! so cold. If you do not do as we demand, then I will not guarantee that this whole house wont be set on fire. You have two hours! make haste.

yours in perpetuity
The Tenants Of Melrose

Man is the only creature that dares to light a fire and live with it. The reason? Because he alone has learned to put it out. ~Henry Jackson Vandyke, Jr.

From Rhonda, The Station

this will not be a terribly long post because i am feeling crappy as a result of drinking and being ridiculous last night. but, the blog is empty and that makes me sad. almost as sad as being at work right now is making me feel. (but not quite.) so, to make me feel better... my first post!


i love our house, for many many reasons. i love our super cool stove and the skylights and giant backyard; i love the tub with jets and the views and my roommates and neighbors.

but i really love that it's next to the station.

the station, our bar, is a very short walk downhill from our house and a very long walk back up depending on my state of inebriation. it has everything i require in a bar, namely rum, but also very cool bartenders who forgive our alcoholic ways and against all better judgment still give us the darts. on sundays there are live bands (which brings up completely different story, but that must wait) and the back room, which we frequently take over, has become an extension of our living room.

we are quite possibly the best and worst regular bar patrons at station. there are always several of us and massive consumption of spirits leads to empty wallets (good) and usually vomit (bad) and some rather interesting interactions with other patrons (Danny = good, Rio = bad, The Band = weird)

if tonight we go to the station, i know for a fact that i will have a hangover and a kick ass story tomorrow morning. i really do love that bar.


The harsh, useful things of the world, from pulling teeth to digging potatoes, are best done by men who are as starkly sober as so many convicts in the death-house, but the lovely and useless things, the charming and exhilarating things, are best done by men with, as the phrase is, a few sheets in the wind. ~H.L. Mencken, Prejudices, Fourth Series, 1924

We have a blog!