Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a girl who wanted to wash her clothes. You see, just a couple nights before she had been dancing at a pub when someone spilled some beer on her back and then moments later a bit more down her leg. Or so she thought. She happened to brush her leg to find that the beer stain was in fact chunky and a reddish-yellow color with a heinous odor: PUKE. So she ran to the washroom as quickly as her little feet could carry her to wash the mess off.
Did you know that about 55% of Icelanders believe that, at the very least, it is possible--if not certain--that huldufólk ("hidden people") exist? You are not supposed to throw stones in Iceland because you might hit them (ok, I stole this directly from Wikipedia).
Anyway, bottom line: The fuckin elves took my clothes. But I am holding out that these are good elves and my clothes will be returned clean and neatly folded waiting for me on my bed.
A few days later she desperately needed to put her clothes in the magical washing machine that would make all the gross stains go away, but she was in a rush so she left her pukey clothes on top of the magical machine to be washed once she returned. But when she came back, she found her clothes had disappeared! There was only one possible explanation: ELVES.
Did you know that about 55% of Icelanders believe that, at the very least, it is possible--if not certain--that huldufólk ("hidden people") exist? You are not supposed to throw stones in Iceland because you might hit them (ok, I stole this directly from Wikipedia).
Anyway, bottom line: The fuckin elves took my clothes. But I am holding out that these are good elves and my clothes will be returned clean and neatly folded waiting for me on my bed.
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