Words from an Irishman on his way home...

Sunday, 22 November 2009

The dooryway from (not to) he'll, I hope...

I am currently at war with the automatic door at the front of my
apartment building. It refuses to open for me when I am trying to
leave. Luckily, there are no security cameras down there (I think) or
there would be ample footage of me prizing the stubborn thing open
with my matchstick arms.

Could it be that I have become so manorexic that the sensor is just
missing me? Or is it that I have died and just haven't realized it
yet, a la sixth sense?

Anyway, if it happens again today, I guess it will be time to contact
either the landlord, a nutritionist or Hayley Joel Whatshisface.

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