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Wednesday, February 09, 2005

To Spite My Face

I was ticked off last night. I had nothing exciting to accomplish so I flipped on the television to see if any movies were playing. (Shut up, I know.) So there I am watching The Animal starring Rob Schneider (Shut up, I know.) when I'm offered a pork chop by one of my roomates. Shit yeah.

As I'm accepting my chop she berates me for my poor dedication to dishwashing. I was not having this. I wash my dishes with stunning regularity and rarely have more than one pan and one plate in our chipped yellow double basin. I am certainly the only one who washes the utensils when I do all the dishes, which is twice a month on average. She likes to marinate them in Comet so they'll be pure for the rapture.

I know I'm right because I'm the only employed member of the household and I often don't eat at home for days at a stretch. The other roomie keeps his dishes in his room for science. When he escorts them out to the kitchen shortly before they evolve into skin-melting bacterias, he leaves them on the counter, not in the sink.

That leaves her. After some verbal combat she backed off. I'll spare you the mundane drama. I decided to do all the dishes and to go buy plastic for myself. Let them choke on mold spores and try to blame me. I'll show them. There will be no way to blame me for the garlic mushroom sludge thickening into goopy little puddles, attaching fork to saucer like superglue.

So I'm almost finished when a whispered moaning emits from the right drain. Then comes a soft gurgle like an ebola victim's last wet breath. My nose twitches. The signals reach my brain. I realize that my nose is under assault. Somehow the contents of the dumpster at the abortion clinic got mashed into jelly and pumped down my sink. Two weeks ago. That ain't fresh dead baby. I choke.

Time for action. I look under the sink. We have plastic pipes, so Draino and bleach are not options. These pipes are leaking into a plastic tray full of candlesticks, cupboard handles, cardboard, and empty freeze-dried coffee jars.

I let the water in the sink go down. This takes a while. I unscrew the threaded gaskets and take the pipes down. Thick black and grey sludge (chopped eel?) spews forth with a Heimlich maneuver POP! and splashes clumsily onto everything under the sink, which naturally I'd neglected to remove before I started this ill-advised exploration. Now it smells like a full port-a-potty on a very hot, humid summer day.

It was so ugly I almost found religion to get me through the cleanup and pipe flushing. Just kidding. Jesus wouldn't go near that crud. I spent the better part of an hour cleaning up the mess while the dish berater asked me to save things that were covered in black filth she thought might be battery acid. I often refused and chucked the item anyways. She thanked me at the end and we're cool now.

My brain was so badly damaged through my nose that I watched basketball and ate carrots before going to sleep.

10:02 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm

9 Comments:

February 09, 2005 11:59 AM, Blogger Imogene_Pix said...

God, I remember this all... now I'm having flashbacks to stinky bilgewater with bits of rubbery cheese floating in it and fake vegetarian roomates who don't do their dishes because they insist that their diet consists only of Safeway garlic bread and blue corn tortilla chips or other foodstuffs that don't require the use of dishes or flatware.

 
February 09, 2005 1:06 PM, Blogger Other Brother said...

The only democratic resolution I have found for the "who does the dishes" problem is paper, rock, scissors.

 
February 09, 2005 1:08 PM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

Oh, how I miss my college roommates!

 
February 09, 2005 6:04 PM, Blogger Stace said...

OMG, I just lost my appetite!!!!! That sounds horrible, sorry you had to go through that. Proud that you fixed it yourself though, AWESOME.

 
February 09, 2005 10:12 PM, Blogger daniel said...

[quote]
It was so ugly I almost found religion to get me through the cleanup and pipe flushing.
[/quote]

Pearler.

Living with people is as hard as a morning burglar. I am so sick of living with people.
My flatmate that just moved out would sit his rubbish on the bench, roughly 1 foot away from the bin and leave it there to go manky. (considering we live in the sub-tropics, manky is an understatement). God forbid he ever take the bins out!! I mean seriously, i believe it became a challenge for him (similar to pick-up-sticks, or building a house out of cards) to see how high, if he was to actually use the bin, he could stack the rubbish above where the bag ended. He made about 4 foot at one stage. It was like a little mini-apartment complex for maggots.
He'd chuck his plate in the sink and splash some water on it and then leave it for a week, which was about the time I stopped playing the "I'll just see how long it takes him to do it" game, and started the "I'm going to fucking kill him" internal monologue. The only thing is, he wouldn't scrape his uneaten food off first.
So by the time I got to it, it was a biohazard. Shit was growing in there that resembeled early evolution of the crocodile and you had to tame those beasts before you could wash the plates.
I know people said, just leave it for him to do, but the problem was that pretty much everything in the kitchen was mine - which meant that if I wanted to use my pot, or my plate etc I had to fight some fucking crazy creature in the sink, then use high-grade acid's to clean the fungal growth and fossilized remains off the plate.

Cannot wait to buy my own place. I am going to put barb-wire on the fence and conduct 1000 volts thru the doorbell button.

 
February 10, 2005 12:01 AM, Blogger Dave Morris said...

Stop it, I have tears in my eyes. Funny stuff man. Keep me entertained!

I would be interested in your take on marsupial pocket lint. If you ever feel like researching the subject.

 
February 10, 2005 12:29 AM, Blogger sCruuw said...

OMG you are reminding me of my Fridge.Two years ago I went for a one day surgery... I ended up in the hospital 2 weeks, then laid on my floor all morphened up for another few weeks... The contents of my refridgerator morphed into all the ingredients needed for some ass kicking biological WMD's. This was in the dead of winter so I placed my drinks on my deck and I too ate delivery. I ended up paying the kid next door 20 dollars to clean it out for me! He had to wear a hankerchief over his nose and mouth!

 
February 10, 2005 4:48 AM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

B.R., you are seriously the flip guppy. (Don't worry, "flip guppy" is the very latest complementary phrase. Two urban youths are currently using it while they hoop - by September we'll probably be hearing it in Sprite commercials.)

I sing a little tune in my head to help me do a chore I detest. It's usually: "rumble de brumble de bramble de yay" or some variant thereof, repeated for the duration of the job.

 
February 10, 2005 2:20 PM, Blogger sic said...

I feel your pain, for I have been where you are.

With the sludge-drain-thingy, I mean. I still dwell in the midst of the Dish War (only there are SIX of us). I bought a dishwasher last week, but still haven't got the stupid thing to work yet!

Grr. Argh.

 

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