I don't think all of my Swedish readers know what a guage is. Let's leave it at that. Moving on.... My friend Eva had earlier told me about this store on Telegraph where they sell some cheap ass guages. Time to make a move. A guaging move.
Eleven dollars and 90 cents later I look like I have worms coming out of my ears. Niiice... Eva flat out refused to sport these puppies. I spend a minute of looking at her with huge disapointment with my teary eyes before I realize she has a good point. The mirror and her aviators tell me so. Damn.
Moving on...... I make a fatal mistake asking a guy at Zebra for a price estimate. He starts chit chatting about the giraff on my shirt. Like, dude, tats, helloooooo. I grab Evas arm and we move on to bigger and better things - thrift shopping.
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