Tennis Clothing Source

baconcatman:

tl;dr: the fruit fly occupancy and the failed coup d’etat In my freshman year of college, my roommate and I leave for two weeks of winter break. We walk out the door, turn off the lights, and go for two long weeks of vacation. Two weeks later we come back ready to settle back in for another term of college. Though something wasn’t right. It didn’t take long for it to catch our attention, but I had accidentally left a can of salsa half open on top of my mini-fridge…and it had been open for two weeks straight. Swarms of them. Everywhere. Uncountable. Fruit flies buzzing around their new haven, baby flies swimming around in their salsa paradise, and little maggots encased on the inner edges of the glass. [Ground [Alternate](http://imgur.com/VcgSi.jpg) This took us by surprise and after several minutes of taking in our disgust, we had to come up with a counter-strategy. One of our prototype plans was to use an [unstrung tennis scoop it over the salsa can AND paper tower roll (which had been captured as well), and slide it into the trash can while the wingman covers the trash can with a cardboard box. Though we had a limited supply of bags and our best one was a bit small. It would have taken outstanding accuracy to pull it off successfully. We had some practice runs and the percentage of success was not large enough. Our final plan was to simply scoop a box over the can, slide it into the trash can with the help of gravity, and close the trash can in one motion. I was chosen for this task. I snuck up slowly and went into focus. I lunged in and slammed the box over the salsa can. I missed. I hastily retreated into the corner and zipped up my hoodie over my face to defend myself from the counter-attack of the swarm. We took our losses and went for in for reparations, simply scooping in the salsa can into the trash can and letting the surrounding fruit flies escape. We sulked in our casualties from the battle but were able to win the war. I disposed of them in the outside garbage dumpster and cleaned the trash can. We made quite a commotion as the girl across the hall with her door open silently listened to our strategic planning. She disappeared, went missing, and never saw her again. The case of the cursed dorm room across the hall? Well, that’s another story.

ifiweretom:

degrees
springs
?
columns
bridges
charges
rackets [like, i wanna get into the bookmaking racket]
showers
?
letters
well, there's some help