Once upon a time about 3 years ago I
moved out, drove 800 miles, and decided I should probably go to college. I
previously worked at Papa Murphey’s and had little to no money at all and no
place to live. So where have I been living for the last three years…..my
grandma’s basement. I gotta say I scored the jackpot on this basement, but I
didn’t know it at the time. This isn’t just any old basement, this basement is
Velma. Velma is one unique piece of house and here is why:
First and
foremost I must tell you how Velma got her name. Velma is actually our
refrigerator, but she is more than just an inanimate object She speaks…or
buzzes but same diff. About every 40 minutes, without fail, Velma chimes in
with a very long, loud, BUZZ! So, basically I hear loud and clear about every
40 minutes that Velma owns the place, and I am just visiting. And that is how
grandma’s basement got the name Velma.
The ceramic
stash and bookcase full of knowledge.
Have you ever
tried throwing a sticker away? Ya it sucks. So, after I’m done competing, I
come home and rip the sticker off my spandex and just slap it on the wall.
THE RACK. that’s
it.
Last but not
least, probably the best part of Velma, is … the pole!
