I think there is a dead something underneath my fridge. I can't get the fridge out of its nook to check, and my last resort is to look underneath with a flashlight, but I don't own a flashlight.
Also, the noises that an apartment makes are kind of creepy if you listen carefully enough. I think my walls are deteriorating at a noticeable rate.
I looked at my hands the other day and for the first time I noticed I had man hands, and not boy hands. The wrinkles have changed very subtly.
I can't stop thinking about the avant-garde food of Ferran Adria: This is a photo of the scientist/magician/chef, owner of perhaps the most famous restaurant in the world, El Bulli; I think this here is a solid tomato bisque, in ribbon-candy form. He is also famous for creating edible foams, and a fish spun into spiderweb consistency, then eaten like cotton candy.