Atlanta airport's intra-course hallway features a collection of African art. I was walked through the exhbit this afternoon on my return from Norwalk rather than the tram because (1) I like the walk and (2) I need to work off that pie I've been shoveling the last two days.
As I rode past on the Jetsons-style moving sidewalks, I watched an elderly lady viewing a piece of art while her grandson (I'm assuming) played in back of the sculpture The art itself: some Zimbabwean had carved a marble man complete with marble buttocks in the back where the little boy way playing. While the grandmother was admiring the sculpture from the front, the little boy was in the back fingering the marble man's marble buttcrack, poking at his marble butthole!
That's some pretty fucked up shit. I looked around expecting shocks of horrors or at least disapproving frowns, ideally from a group of nuns. However, the hall was empty - no one saw but me. That's how these things always go.
Sadly, my butt-themed afternoon didn't end there. Upon my return to the house, I found 20% remainder of dried poop on my floor, evidently someone did a halfhearted job of cleaning up. I really hope it was dog-poop but my landlord's sloppy Irish relatives are visiting, so who knows.
More sadly, after I cleaned up the dog poop, I changed into my older sneakers, and instantly felt a cool wet sensation as I put them on my feet. Yes, the dog/drunk relative had also peed in my closet, over my sneakers and bag of dirty laundry. So: Laundry time! I don't know if it's OK to put sneakers in the laundry machine, but I did it anyway.
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