I drill holes in many corks.
I’ve been performing the thrilling task of drilling holes in several hundred corks. Tonight alone I drilled 230 of them before both of the powerdrill batteries ran out.
Aside from the sheer joy of performing the same mundane task over and over again, I’m doing this for a craft project I have in mind. (Admittedly, I’ve been listening to a Roman History course while I do it, and I find it meditative and relaxing.)
I purchased the corks during a sale last week at SCRAP. Everything in the store was 50 cents a pound that day. I think I bought about 34 pounds. (It’s a huge bag that I’ve barely dipped into.) I decided to buy them because I have a lot of ideas for different things to do with them and they’re relatively light, but make a good, basic building unit.
I even saved the cork dust in a jar. You never know when you might need some cork dust.
Fuck Your Kitchen
Drunk, nearly blacked out, and unsatisfied with his life, Michael (Or SuperBR*, as we call him) did his best imitation of a tornado in the kitchen last night. He pulled a bunch of old vegetables and sour cream out of the fridge and decorated the floor and walls with them. Our other two roommates were sleeping. Michael laughed when I warned him how mad they would be and he jubilantly screamed that he couldn’t wait until they saw his modern art installation.
And, of course, as any good bulemic knows, what goes down, must come up.
*the BR stands for Baby Raper
Seen Around PDX
I like walking. I like taking pictures. I’ve combined these two glorious pastimes and, out of the dramatic fusion came this dripping bloodchild: my new photoblog. Seen Around PDX.
I’ll be updating it daily with photos like this: 
Enjoy!
