It's 4am and I am taking a break from chiseling hardened slicks of molasses out of my fridge because tomorrow there will be someone coming to cook for me in my own kitchen and I am hell-bent on giving him the impression that I am less grimy than I actually am. Because love is just good marketing.Like so many things in my life, my fridge gets a lot of use and not a lot of cleaning. But don't think this extends to personal hygiene. Indeed, I go to great lengths to stay this daisy fresh.
These include me boiling a giant pot of water on the stove, lugging it to the bathtub, and squatting over it to "bathe."
What is this, the mother country?
But it's the third time the hot water is off and the way I figure, you've got to adapt. So I'm thinking I'll just roll with it, go all out, maybe pick up some Betel Nut. And a chapeau chinois. I hear those are big in France.
Hey bohemian chic, scooch the fuck down. I am keeping shit real and I hope you are taking notes.
Who wants pasta?
2 comments:
I hope the man who is coming to cook for you isn't Gordon Ramsay. Otherwise you're fucked.
Also, my friend's place is without hot water, so I'm gonna pass on that whole boiling water idea to him. The guy JUST got a girlfriend, so I'm thinking bathing is gonna be key over the next few days.
sometimes i miss being your roommate. other times i'm like "sweet, there's hot water where i live."
p.s. not happy about comments being disabled from lj users.
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