this is what happen when my bro goes home

This is what happens when my bro goes home….

1.) He gets too distracted by the chaos of a toddler wanting to play, dogs wanting to play, a dad drilling into an ostrich egg, etc. that he has to set up his office in the garage. Funny thing though…neighbor kids were intrigued by a man with a card table in a garage working on a computer that they rode their bikes up to see the spectacle.

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2.) The fumes from the garage did a number on my bro…he got a little high and played the accordion until the wee hours of the morning…

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Author: Ali Carras

At a very young age I lost site of my mom in a local grocery store in Boulder, Colorado. I did, however, have the smarts to go to the customer service counter. The kind woman at the counter asked "What is your name little girl?" My reply: "Assi." The woman gave me a look like, "Are you playing with me you little devil?" but she proceeded to blast on the loudspeaker the "We have a lost Assi at the front of the store." Customers throughout the store gagged and giggled, but my mom knew exactly who the woman was referring to: the mullet haired little girl with a tongue too big for her mouth, wearing a leotard, skirt, tights, and jelly shoes (with florescent green laces in them...even though they didn't need the laces). A shy little character for whom every little detail in life was a huge thing. I am pleased to report that today I am able to fully pronounce Allison (aka Ali), but the Assi pseudonym has always stuck, evolving into Aszi. As for the shy little character for whom every little detail in life was a huge thing? Some things never change. I have closed my comments due to mass amounts of spam that no filter could ever control. Feel free to contact me abeckord [at] gmail.com!

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