Still riding the "duh" wagon
2005-09-16...9:01 p.m.


I now have PROOF that my belief that men are just not all that brilliant has between little and nothing do with PMS.

The day before yesterday, Corey tells me, "We need to clean the kitchen. The stew you ["you," by the way, does NOT mean the same thing as "we" - "you" translates from manspeak into "I am not willing to admit it was me"] left out has gone so bad that it's stinking up the whole house."

Admittedly, SOMETHING was stinking up the whole house. I mean, besides him. So "we" cleaned up the kitchen and took care of the nasty stew.

The next day, the smell was still there. Dad blamed it on the dog. "Your dog was in my room laying down yesterday. She made my room smell." For those who don't know, Dad's room is in the garage. I, personally, was convinced that the little rodent witnessed scampering through the garage had died and was stinking the place up.

So today, I closed up Dad's room and the door leading to the house from the garage. I opened up the garage door, and thank goodness I hadn't eaten breakfast, because I would have splattered my feet with it. One of the joys of wearing sandals, y'know.

My theory was this - leave the garage door open, and flies are BOUND to be attracted to whatever died in there. Seriously. And then I could scrape it up and get rid of the smell. Genius, right?

Well, I left it open for 4 hours, and I think even the flies were grossed out, because I saw not a one.

So Corey comes home today with a sheepish look on his face.

"I know why the garage stinks."

Remember when he fixed our daughter's bed? Well, that required him to use the welder. Which requires electricity. From an outlet. Which the outside fridge was plugged into.

Oh, yes. I said, "WAS."

So the fridge sat unplugged for 9 days, with a couple of rabbits, uncleaned and unskinned, hanging out in the freezer, and god-only-knows-what-else in the fridge part.

So he plugged it back in. I absolutely positively reFUSE to help him clean that shit up. I just refuse.

He also came home with the happy news that we have to dump MORE money into Dad's fucking car. More!!! Because the motor on the driver's side window finally went completely kaput, and so did the switch. I have a nagging suspicion that Corey busted it in a fit of manliness when he couldn't get the window up. He won't admit it, though. If Mercedes had said what he said ("I don't know, it was just LIKE that when I tried to close the window,") he would call her a liar and yell at her like there was no tomorrow.

the last trail...the next path

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