Tuesday, 16 October 2012

NO WOMAN, NO CRY, AND NO PANTS: DAY TWO


Day Two, Part One

I'm feeling a little under the weather this afternoon, but I can't fathom why this might be.

The day appeared to be going swimmingly. I awakened rather luxuriously at 9 AM: a rare treat, since Sareena generally rises substantially earlier to take the hound for his matutinal micturition with no END to the amount of grumbling and huffing noises she produces while doing so (which reminds me that I really should encourage her to see her physician). My first challenge was to locate appropriate clothing for the day. Some may call me old-fashioned for usually delegating these sartorial decisions to my better half, but she appears to enjoy doing this, as evidenced by her maniacal giggling as she does so. Having selected the finest of garments, including a silken buttock supporter labelled "La Perla" (not sure why these aren't more commonly worn!), I attended to the decontamination of my soiled garments in the dishwasher. Yes, this was another brainwave borne of my boundless inventiveness, I must admit, but also of necessity: I had used the kitchen sink to thaw some ground beef overnight, and the bathtub was still somewhat stained and molten from yesterday's fire.

I had been very careful to heed Sareena's repetitive mantra of the importance of "separating" one's clothes prior to washing. It seemed to be an incredibly tedious task, the purpose of which still escapes me, but I located a pair of fine scissors and removed the stitches from every item of clothing destined for purification. I suppose taking the apparel apart allows the cleaning solution to penetrate more deeply. As for the cleaning solution itself, I was flabbergasted by the sheer amount of purported household sanitation products strewn: "Chlorox" this and "Drano" that...there was even a bottle of "Polish remover"! What next..."Hungarian banisher?" Absolute pap. I turned to a couple of old stand-bys: bleach and ammonia. Steadfast, dependable, and absolutely safe! As I brought the containers over to dispense their contents into the apparatus' maw, the neurotic mutt hurled himself at me! He was resolutely intransigent in his efforts to prevent me from proving my domestic worth! I managed to coax him outside, but he barked persistently until I left the door open. I returned to my task and poured the bleach and ammonia into the dishwasher, locked the instrument, and pressed the "Start" button (rather clever of me to discern its function, I thought!). I paid no heed to the cloud of fumes emanating from the dishwasher, as I had seen steam escape from it on previous occasions when Sareena had used it.

I will continue my narrative shortly...there is a task which requires my attention, and I'm still recovering from my mysterious malaise.


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Day Two, Part Two

Well, that was exciting.

When last I wrote, I had to leave precipitously to attend to the kettle which I had placed to boil on the stove. It was producing a strange odour (readily discernible from the fresh-smelling fumes belched by the dishwasher), and an acrid smoke. The bottom of the kettle had melted onto the stove top! It seems somewhat odd for the manufacturers to produce the kettle from plastic and to include an electrical cord...but I suppose those industrial designers have quite some "wiggle room" with their capricious contrivances. While I was tidying up the mess, and in between coughing fits, I felt a determined pulling at my sleeve, though I could not see the cause through the haze. I batted the soot away and discovered that the bastard hound kept dashing into the kitchen to try to pull me outside! I can only imagine that he was vexed with the shoddy manufacturing and wished to remind me of the perfection intrinsic to the natural environment. Impressed with his philosophical perspective, I did as he bade, if only to appease him and his accursedly stubborn nature. I also could not refuse his delicious caramel eyes and their luxurious lashes.

After spending some time in the back yard with the animal, I returned to the kitchen to start on supper in spite of his tenacious attempts at keeping me outside. I inhaled deeply, savouring the heady perfume--a not altogether unpleasant bouquet lingering in the air from my successful attempts at laundry and boiling water--although I began to feel somewhat lightheaded and nauseated. I attributed this to my nascent hunger pangs and focused on making the hamburgers I had promised myself. The ground beef had been defrosting and warming to ambient temperature since the day before (in the sink, as I previously mentioned), and it now appeared to be sufficiently aerated and oxidized. I added what I believed to be a pleasing combination of spices and used an egg as a binding agent (another helpful hint I'd picked up from Sareena when she thought I wasn't paying attention--which I'm usually not).

I rolled the raw hamburger mixture into balls and placed them on a baking sheet. I must say, I was somewhat perplexed by the visibility of the eggshell, but I imagine that it dissolves with the cooking process. I will never know, though, because after soaking the ground beef boulettes and baking sheet with lighter fluid--to promote even and thorough cooking, of course--I was once again accosted by the villainous pooch on my way to the barbecue! He knocked the baking sheet from my hands, and the food which was once destined for my stomach was now destined for the garbage. I will have to wait until dark to place the rubbish by the neighbour's vehicle, though, as he gave me an accusingly surly look earlier today. I have no idea why this is. I'd invite him for tea, but...you know...

As a result of his quasi-ictal behaviour, the dog and I settled for leftovers again today. I'm disappointed that I wasn't able to enjoy the result of my culinary prowess, but it wasn't for lack of trying. I AM worried about the canine, though, and his recent comportment: one minute, he's intently interfering to no end; the next, he's exhausted, reclining on the floor, keeping one eye immovably, passionately fixed on his master. He's no doubt smitten with my heretofore dormant abilities!

Fortunately, the smoke has mostly cleared from the house and, on a completely unrelated topic, my mysterious illness appears to have mostly resolved. By tomorrow, I should be in full form to continue with my domiciliary exploits! I've received numerous adulatory messages from my impressed fans, some of whom implore me to cease with my attempts at "playing house", and some even going so far as to profess that they fear for my life (figuratively speaking, no doubt; simply referring to the challenge inherent in performing such thankless, insipid tasks). Please! I know that you all believe me capable, but I do this not to prove anything to you, but to myself! I appreciate your concern, but save it for someone who truly needs it.

If you have any particular requests or suggestions for future undertakings, by all means, do let me know. In the meantime, I remain your ever faithful servant! Good night!

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