In the key of rage
If you’ve ever wondered what a gallon of sweetened iced tea looks like when it’s spread out about 1/16-of-an-inch thick, it looks a lot like my kitchen floor. Covered in iced tea.
Awesome.
Though, my girlfriend, Kate, quickly identified at least three positives: 1) the container wasn’t glass; 2) it didn’t land on my toes; and 3) it wasn’t milk. All valid.
Worst part: We don’t even drink iced tea. We bought it for someone else.
Until moments before the torrent was unleashed, I had been watching Apocalypto, half of me wondering why the native tribe was cutting people’s hearts out, the other half wondering why Mel Gibson is still allowed to make movies.
I now understand one of those two.
And I’m still thirsty.
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