Today was just a stinky, stinky day. To start off, I boiled some eggs this morning, and made myself an egg salad sandwich for lunch. Of course once the eggs were peeled and mashed up, the entire upstairs – and downstairs too – reeked of that nasty eggfart smell. So I bagged up my lunch and Fred’s and headed off to work, and halfway there I realized I was carrying the stinky eggfart smell with me, which means of course that those damn little sandwich bags aren’t nearly as airtight as I had hoped they were. I had to stop at FoodWorld for milk and cereal, and of course when I hopped back into the truck, there was that lovely, farty smell to greet me. I carried the smell with me into work, and became concerned that everyone would think it was me, so I made sure to tell Fred it was my egg salad sandwich, and for good measure put a sign on the refrigerator door.
Due to an egg salad sandwich, the refrigerator and kitchen
area will smell like a giant fart for the duration of the day.
Thank you for your patience.
And it tasted excellent, of course, which made the eggfart stenchiness more than worth it.
Tonight, we had jambalaya for dinner. Usually I make the jambalaya with kielbasa and chicken, but Fred suggested I try substituting shrimp for the chicken this time. So I had to defrost the shrimp, then peel it, and the more I peeled, the shrimpier-smelling the kitchen got. The kitten was losing her mind, and tried more than once to climb my leg to get to that good-smelling stuff. Once I cooked the shrimp, the kitchen smelled even shrimpier, but my didn’t the jambalaya kick ass. What’s better, there’s enough left over for both Fred and I to take for lunch tomorrow. I’m sure once Tex gets whiff (so to speak) of the fact that our lunches contain shrimp, he’ll claim the whole office stinks from that.
So, Patrick Naughton’s lawyers have come up with the lamest defense ever. You remember Patrick Naughton – the Infoseek guy who intended to meet a 13 year-old and was thwarted because she wasn’t actually a 13 year-old girl, she was an FBI agent. Well, the brilliant defense his attorneys came up with was (drum roll) he didn’t expect her to really be 13; he assumed she was an adult and all their conversations were role-playing, because in chat rooms no one is who they claim to be. I told Fred they should put me on the jury. I’ll have the other jurors chanting "Hang him! Hang him!" in no time.
Here’s the house, all decked out in it’s holiday finery:
Impressive, eh? That Fred does a pretty good job, doesn’t he?
Okay, go join my notify list.
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