Misanthropomorphism
The elevators in our building have a curious recorded floor announcement. The female voice has an unplaceable accent: nasal, snooty-almost-schoolmarmish, vaguely Canadian. Probably the result of a focus group on pleasing intonation gone wrong.
I rode the elevator down today with a construction worker. We didn’t speak. As we emerged from the car I heard him mutter to himself “damn foreign elevators.” And he clomped off.
I’m really not sure he was kidding.
The Ampcamper
How I hauled myself, two teens, an 80 lb dog, and a whole load of crap 4000+ miles across six states in twenty days using an electric vehicle. And survived to tell the tale.
The Terror Tourist
A roughly monthly exploration of places in horror fiction — real or imagined, geographical or psychological — culled from The Heavy Leather Horror Show.
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