We came home the other night to find a memo from the Homeowners Association taped to our door:

It wasn’t intended for us, as none of our stuff hangs out in public view (we put all of our stuff in the second bedroom, which we’ve aptly renamed “The Craproom”). We snorted at it, and kept moving inside.

Then Paul noticed the second paragraph:

There it is. The second sentence. “Please do not leave any appliances, furniture or personal items by curb side, this become an eye sewer for our HOA.”

An EYE SEWER.

A sewer for your eyes. Or a sewer of eyes. Just a lot of dirty, bloodshot eyeballs, floating around in murky saline alongside a broken chair, an old toaster and discarded gas permeable lenses.

If I could draw, this post would be a LOT better. (Actually, any artists wanna take a crack at it? I’ll pay you in friendship!)

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