I have a headache that could kill a man. It is actually affecting my brain. I couldn’t say “iPhone” just now. All that sputtered out was, “uh….uh…..wait…..uh….” It’s bad. Like, my eyeballs are hurting. I have popped some naproxen sodium in hopes that it would battle the migraine pounding away in my skull like Travis Barker. So far I still feel like the Keebler Elf is chopping wood in my cerebellum. I can’t live like this you guys.
The plumber came. GOD BLESS IT THE PLUMBER CAME!!!! Our five-day sink-clog has finally been remedied. After plunging the drain and opening the trap, we discovered two plastic knives, a popsicle stick, a straw, and half of a plastic fork. That’ll clog your drain. Whoops. Due to an unusable sink for nearly a week, almost every single dish we owned was dirty and piled upon every square inch of counter space we had, stinking it up worse than Fergie at the Superbowl. The kitchen smelled like spoiled algea and pussy. It was disgusting.
After tackling the pile of dishes, I went on a full-fledged cleaning rampage. It actually smells GOOD in here. Like, if you closed your eyes, you might actually think you weren’t somewhere completely f-cking disgusting. I Febrezed everything. Candles were lit. The floor was swept and scrubbed, the counters disinfected, the microwave cleaned, and the carpet vacuumed. SPEAKING of which, today was the day I got to try the ol’ Dyson Ball Animal vacuum cleaner for the first time. I came. It is an incredible machine. It turns on a dime, it has multiple easy-to-use attachments, it’s a beast—I love it. I can’t believe how much dirt is in the carpet. It’s nauseating. And I eat Cadbury Mini Eggs off that floor….
I won’t stop.
I want Mexican food. I would like to be showered in queso blanco. Is that too much to ask? I could bury my face in a cheese enchilada right now if a) I had one and b) no one was around to witness it. Motorboating food is a sure-fire way to become judged harshly. (Fat). Sometimes I get over certain types of food for years at a time. From 2008 to 2010, I could not stop eating Mexican cuisine. Then I did. Chinese and Italian took the lead and I stuffed my gullet full of pasta and fried rice. Two years later, Mexican food is creeping back in. Boy is it. Give me some rice and beans, Jose. Fire up the grill.
WELL, I’m leaving. It’s none of your business what I’m going to go do.
…..but if you must know, I’m putting on more pants because there is a chill in the air. Nosy pricks.
“Brian, you came!”
“No, I just spilled my drink.”