I sells it.
In preparation for moving to L.A.
As in the last time I lived in California, my prime qualification for keeping furniture is whether I can move it by myself. Fortunately, years of protein and the random Hoke “who let in the mesomorph?” gene make that a pretty wide target.
I do not think my queen-size bed, with the springs coming out the side and the fresh pee stain (oh, Jake) will make the cut. And thank you, new album, for setting up yet another Death Cab reference.
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