Well the neighbors' pipes froze, so our dolt of a landlady had a kerosene space heater cranked full blast in their part of the basement, which, oddly enough, runs beneath our kitchen (though we can't access it). Result: Randy goes to the emergency room with carbon monoxide poisoning. By the time I saw the message taped to my office door (folks were trying to find me but I was in the library and had forgotten to turn my cell ringer back on) and headed off to the ER with a friend (thanks, D), R had already been released. There's more to the story--after throwing open the doors and windows (it was waaaaaay cold) to air things out, I called the fire department to make sure the apartment was safe for us to sleep in--but the main news is that R is okay. What a scare.
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I hope they set Ms. Nowak's bail appropriately high . . . umm, can you say flight risk?
Ba-dump bump tssssh! (Thank you, I'll be here all week.)
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Rodney Gomez: A Short Tablature of Loss
3 months ago