DB FLEA MARKET REPORT: THAT LUCKY OLD SUN CAN KISS MY ASS

Today was the quarterly Disco Bay Flea Market, where we all go down to the plaza and trade each other’s junk for three months.

Consequently, we spent the afternoon boiling in the hot, hot sun: 33ºC (around 91ºF) and clear skies all day. The bridal unit got a mild case of heat stroke and I got a nice burn, me. Yes, I used sunscreen. The sun laughed in my face.

Ha ha. Fuck the sun.

Not much fun, but in case you haven’t heard, there’s an economic crisis market adjustment in play, so we take what we can.

We haven’t tallied the days winnings yet, but at least we covered the cost of the booth space and the transportation. And we went down with seven (7) boxes of stuff and came back with three (3). So we did okay. Apart from our general health, of course.

Also, I was hoping to have a quick wander around in search of cheap books, but never really had a chance. Maybe next time.

I have no photos of the event, so you’ll have to settle for one of KT’s awesome new t-shirts.



I have no idea what it means, no. That’s the beauty of it, see? I wish they made t-shirts like this my size. I’d wear them every day.

Okay, to bed with me.

My purity is monstrous,

This is dF