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Corolla

I opted for cruise control instead of the turret. While highway driving is more relaxing, I think that the Browning would have jacked up the "fun level" quite a bit.

I’m still unemployed, so I decided that I would make a “job” for myself and try to clean out my garage to the point that a vehicle might actually fit into it.  The cleaning turned up some odd items.

An empty .50 machinegun ammunition box. I used this as a toolbox and conversation piece in my old classroom.  You’d be amazed how many kids can be convinced that it is still full of bullets and that the machinegun is mounted to the top of my Corolla.

A pile of programs from my wedding four years ago. I always enjoyed the idea of wedding programs, since people seem to get anxious at not knowing what was coming up.  I would have made ours into something that looked like the pages of the TV Guide, but since no one even knows what that publication looks like anymore, the joke would have fallen flat.  My brother one-upped me on this by handing out programs that looked like NOW Magazine.

One thermal sock. I have no idea where the other one went.  The rat that was living in it didn’t seem to mind the missing mate, though.

A Playmobile toy catapult set. My stepmother said she saw this and had to buy it for me.  I was 26 years old.  She was right to do it, though.

A can of Campbell’s Chunky Beef from 2004. I ate it for lunch today.  I don’t remember Campbell’s soups ever having furry purple layers in them, but I think it added some zing to the overall flavour.

A “How to Speak German” CD. This series relied heavily on memorizing lists of vegetables one could pick up in the market.  Seeing as I did not plan on being a deutscher salatchef (German salad chef), I found this CD less than stimulating.  I was such a rübe (turnip) for buying it.

A toy Gonzo the Great with Launching Cannon. Again, bought for me when I was far too old to really need such a thing, and yet I was really excited by finding it again.  Gonzo is now sitting on my desk, his cape fluttering in the breeze of my computer’s fan.

A bowling ball and matching bag from 1955. My dad was going to throw it out.  I took it on the reasoning that someday, maybe far in the future, I might have the chance to throw, drop, roll, heave, propel, fire, or launch it at something that I probably shouldn’t.  Such an opportunity should never be missed.

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