Cutting out the middle man!:)

My neighbor knocked on my door yesterday and told me there’s a nice hutch on the curb a few blocks away that I’d probably like. He was right, it was a nice pine hutch, needs a bit of work but nothing I can’t fix.

He helped me carry it home. As we were moving it another lady asked us if she could pay us to move things she liked on that persons curb and take it to her place. It’s was like my neighbor and I set up a pawn shop on somebody’s curb and took over control of distribution!:)

Dude, Where’s my hand?!

Last night was crazy around 2am while we were driving to Burger King in Oakville, Ontario. A guy in his early twenties was laying in the bike path. He looked really hurt so we pulled over and saw that he was bleeding copious amount of blood. Immediately we expect the worst (hit and run, stabbing, shooting).

In true Canadian fashion he was like “I’m alright, no need to worry! My friend is coming over for me. Thanks for checking on me. you can keep going. I’m fine.” Waving us away with such a badly mutated hand that you didn’t want to look too long because there was high probability he had fingers missing or a bone sticking through. Dude, you clearly aren’t ok, have you seen your hand lately or the pools of blood around you?! 

We asked him what happened but he was so drunk and out of it that even he didn’t know. It wasn’t till the next day we made our suggestions following his blood trail. We think he fell over hard with a bottle in his hand but we’ll never know what happened for sure.

Three more people run over to also help this guy get off the side of the road. Once he gets up one of the guys says, “Hey, I know you! You went to my high school! How have you been?!” That’s when my inner dialogue went; “Oh, you know, seen better days, lately I’ve been just laying on the side of the road missing part of my hand!”