Please allow me to explain. I'm generally a clean person with some exceptions. I shower daily, but I can never remember to brush my teeth. (Mainly cause I'm blacked-out at bedtime.) My clothes look clean, but I do laundry bi-annually. Personally I don't find cleaning therapeutic or fun or a turn on of any kind. Some people do, but I just don't get it.
I like to eat out because someone serving you is, well, fabulous, so I make food in my apartment probably once a month. The dishes from this rare occasion stay in my sink for atleast 3 weeks and I basically just rope off my kitchen with invisible CAUTION tape and dont go in it, until I finally man-up, put on some yellow gloves, blast "How Many Licks" By Lil' Kim on repeat, and get down to business.
Due to my lack of real responsibilities this summer I have also been quite the vagabond. No not slut, just vagabond. I've spent little time in my apartment going there about once a week to get more clothes, apologize to my house plants and such. After a 12 day span away from the place, a few of my friends went over there to pick up my laundry for me. Jesus christ, the tales of terror they brought back are still haunting me to this day.
Apparently the dirty dishes I had left there the previous week had created a major fly problem. A few fruit flies had reproduced, laying eggs and growing into hundreds of flying shitheads. Since the windows were closed and I have a small place, basically my studio was a petri-dish, just growing toxic flies. Fucking gross. The next day I gathered a posse, there is no way I was handling this alone. We headed over with a bottle of Jim Beam and some cheap champagne and just started swatting and hissing at these helpless flies.
Once I thought everything was under control, Isabel kindly informs me that before I got there they had spotted the Mother Fly, who was apparently the size of a golf-ball. The biggest fly in the world, quite possibly, and she tells me that they lost her somewhere under the bed and she is probably still alive. NOT CHILL.
I tried to send out a small search party, but they ended up just chain-smoking and laughing in my face. My fear of flies these days is legitamite and unforgiving, but I am happy to say there are none left in my apartment. And I no longer buy groceries because I simply can not handle all the responsibilities that accompany food. C'est pathetic. I learned my lesson.
No comments:
Post a Comment