I feel like you'd be more likely to get a jar of Branstons.

Greenland was a fucking lie

I had a gig scanning photos and typing up records of an entire school over a summer break. This was back in the 90s and the school records were going digital.

The whole time the boss played Christian rock recorded live at Godstock (some sort of religious festival anyway). At ear-bleeding volume.

Man I WISH I could have had a gig researching vintage porn music.

My grandmother honed on her stone kitchen steps. When she passed away her knives were sharp, old, half the size my father remembered.

The top step was worn almost to nothing.