How did I wind up being stuck washing dishes and taking out the trash at 2 AM? I believe it was because I fell asleep for several hours after eating earlier. Something in my din-din demanded I lay my body, obstreperous as always, down for some rest quite immediately.
I woke up this morning (er...yesterday morning) to a pair of marvelous surprises left by my newly adopted (he's community property...or something) cat. Said feline demon sated his vile, philanderous needs by peeing in the corner of the bathroom, in front of the shower, coincidentally, it seems, right on the selfsame mini-towel I step on to absorb my wet feet when I step out of the shower. The cat may almost have been successful in catching me in the pitiless grasp of this malevolent, gleeful trap had I not become especially attuned to the very particular stink of cat pee from an earlier mishap of his. More surprisingly, he left three well-formed cat turds on the carpet under the dining room table. Now for some much-needed exposition. We moved the litter box out to the balcony a couple of weeks ago in order to try and combat certain problems, and have been trying to train him to utilize the kitty facilities outdoors, as the apartment is rather small and the only place we really have to put the litter pan indoors is in the bathroom. Also, he leaves little poo stains on the carpet because he can't seem to do his business without being fairly messy in the process. The move to the balcony is intended to remedy these issues. I let him out there as often as I can so he can take advantage of the litter box, but most of the time he just chases little moths or stares at the trees while outside, as if they are somehow mocking him in their tenebrous posturing.
Moving on.
I was bored earlier today, and so I thought it would be fun (read: relieve my boredom) to remove the hair from my manly chest. Now, my chest is not especially hairy - I have enough hair on it to lean towards the masculine rather than the feminine, but I'm certainly no Baldwin. So I went snooping through M.'s woman-products in her womanly stash below the sink (all women inevitably have a stash of hair-removal products under the sink in the bathroom...go figure) and I successfully found a mysterious, not wholly reassuringly pink bottle labeled....Nair.
I mulled the use of this Nair over and over in my head for about 3.25792 nanoseconds, when I came across a warning of sorts, in eye-catching bold print on the back of the bottle:
This gave me pause. I inspected the product more closely, and saw that one of the chief ingredients in this beef stroganoff of noxiousness is urea. For the uninitiated, urea is the chief nitrogenous waste of mammals.
So...people rub animal waste on their bodies to remove unwanted hair. If I had known this earlier today, I would have gleefully rolled around in the free and natural depilatory the cat left for me.
On that note, I go to my much-needed rest.
I woke up this morning (er...yesterday morning) to a pair of marvelous surprises left by my newly adopted (he's community property...or something) cat. Said feline demon sated his vile, philanderous needs by peeing in the corner of the bathroom, in front of the shower, coincidentally, it seems, right on the selfsame mini-towel I step on to absorb my wet feet when I step out of the shower. The cat may almost have been successful in catching me in the pitiless grasp of this malevolent, gleeful trap had I not become especially attuned to the very particular stink of cat pee from an earlier mishap of his. More surprisingly, he left three well-formed cat turds on the carpet under the dining room table. Now for some much-needed exposition. We moved the litter box out to the balcony a couple of weeks ago in order to try and combat certain problems, and have been trying to train him to utilize the kitty facilities outdoors, as the apartment is rather small and the only place we really have to put the litter pan indoors is in the bathroom. Also, he leaves little poo stains on the carpet because he can't seem to do his business without being fairly messy in the process. The move to the balcony is intended to remedy these issues. I let him out there as often as I can so he can take advantage of the litter box, but most of the time he just chases little moths or stares at the trees while outside, as if they are somehow mocking him in their tenebrous posturing.
Moving on.
I was bored earlier today, and so I thought it would be fun (read: relieve my boredom) to remove the hair from my manly chest. Now, my chest is not especially hairy - I have enough hair on it to lean towards the masculine rather than the feminine, but I'm certainly no Baldwin. So I went snooping through M.'s woman-products in her womanly stash below the sink (all women inevitably have a stash of hair-removal products under the sink in the bathroom...go figure) and I successfully found a mysterious, not wholly reassuringly pink bottle labeled....Nair.
I mulled the use of this Nair over and over in my head for about 3.25792 nanoseconds, when I came across a warning of sorts, in eye-catching bold print on the back of the bottle:
WARNING! IRRITATION OR ALLERGIC REACTION MAY OCCUR!
ALSO, MEN - YOU RUN THE RISK OF LOSING YOUR WILLY IN A SEA OF SWOLLEN PAIN AND SOMETIMES PLEASANT AGONY IF YOU PUT THIS NEAR YOUR THINGY.
This gave me pause. I inspected the product more closely, and saw that one of the chief ingredients in this beef stroganoff of noxiousness is urea. For the uninitiated, urea is the chief nitrogenous waste of mammals.
So...people rub animal waste on their bodies to remove unwanted hair. If I had known this earlier today, I would have gleefully rolled around in the free and natural depilatory the cat left for me.
On that note, I go to my much-needed rest.
posted by Joseph at 3:44 AM
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