Let me spare you the sting of repeating my terrible mistake.
I was walking back from the laundry mat when I looked down and noticed a tiny yellow spot on the chest of my white tank top. It appeared to be mustard, which was weird since today wasn’t Hot Dog & Laundry day.
Why, oh why, do we instinctively swipe and lick in these situations? Or perhaps it’s just me?
I think it might have been a tiny speck of bird poop.
Ugh.
Brazil x Argentina tonight, gaúcho style, with a churrasco at Shelley and Rafael’s.
Vamo vamo Seleção!
LG







