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A friend was complaining about the expense of converting their first floor back into a "classic" Victorian-ish "Gentleman's Apartment" and hoping it might rent well. I wasn't sure anyone wanted to rent such a thing in modern times, but on waking I'm not sure. The idea was that the living room looked like a Victorian pet shop with "Gentleman's Apartment" lettered on big storefront windows as both warning and encouragement to shoppers, space for phone number below.
Smeap is the honk of a flamingo. Smeap was also at least once, a storybook land at the weird intersection of TV ads and the worlds they seem to inhabit. It was a place where wars were fought over sodas, and talking polar bears had very good reasons to guard soda machines. It was a place where rainbow color candies were harvested for electric power. It was a place where a prairie dog might move to big city inhabited mostly by Pink Flamingos to follow her dream to be private investigator, only to get slowly entangled in the seedy underbelly of crime and prohibited soda trading of the Neon Flamingos and their syndicate. Social media at times lately feels like it has become almost entirely seedy underbelly with very little upside. Maybe it needs more storybook worlds.