What do you do the day after Christmas when you live in an apartment? Take down the tree? Clean up the kitchen/living room? Ask your downstairs neighbors to turn up their heat? While all of that sounds productive, Brent and I decided that we would be as non-productive as possible and after a morning of recovering from our food coma, we went outside to throw a frisbee around. Our neighbor joined us, and soon we were having a blast. Until something caught our attention:
What
is that, you ask? Let's see if this helps.
Still not sure? How about this?
Still nothing? Okay, here you go:
Yup, that's right, people. A car. On fire. In our apartment's parking lot. Please, pay no attention to the black smoke or burning rubber/paint smell. The response when we called 911 to report it 20 minutes before the fire department arrived? "Is this call in response to the car on fire? Yes, we know."
I can't make this stuff up, people.
Thank goodness for the "no-smoking in restaurants" law that just passed...
What is that, you ask? Let's see if this helps.
Still not sure? How about this?
Still nothing? Okay, here you go:
Yup, that's right, people. A car. On fire. In our apartment's parking lot. Please, pay no attention to the black smoke or burning rubber/paint smell. The response when we called 911 to report it 20 minutes before the fire department arrived? "Is this call in response to the car on fire? Yes, we know."
I can't make this stuff up, people.
Thank goodness for the "no-smoking in restaurants" law that just passed...
It's just not a fun Christmas without something catching on fire.
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