The title is not in reference to the intellect of one Mario Lopez, no, it is in reference to the condensation that forms and drops from window air conditioning units, often onto unsuspecting humanoids below. In my case I am a suspecting humanoid, but they still get ya. There is really nothing particularly gross about it, but it tends to weird me out just the same. Where I am seated currently I am victim of an indoor AC drip, but it's preferable to the out of doors where I would be sitting in a puddle of my own vile cooling system.
The other night I stepped out of class and there were cop cars and fire department vehicles and that telltale yellow tape blocking off the streets of Old Town and onlookers seemed excited thinking it was the filming of the upcoming Transformers film. Instead it was a good old-fashioned bomb threat. What is the difference between a bomb threat and a bomb scare? I suppose the latter indicates the confirmed presence, or maybe it's when you just take the threat seriously. Reminded me what a lousy bomb diffuser I would be likely to make as a colorblinder. I believe certain other contributing factors would also make me a less-than-ideal selection for this position.
I love looking at lists like the "100 Best Places to Live." Not quite as ironic as calling something a "best kept secret," but I would think putting these places on the radar more might lead to their decline. Then again, maybe not, since I won't be moving to any of them. There's something fun about seeing lists of places I'll never live, great places to raise my imaginary family, and also marveling at how much money some people really have. I had some other stuff, and even things, to discuss, but they are eluding me for the time being.
Don't melt this weekend folks. Cheers.