**Oops, I did it again**
I'll give you three hints (I'm reknown for this one):1) It always happens right before you're going to step on carpet.
2) Characterized by a putrid smell.
3) And to this day, I still haven't met anyone who does this more than me.
It's called, "The Why does it smell like crap everywhere I go?--Hmmm, allow me to check my shoe really quick--Holy crap, I stepped in a doodoo again!" Club.
Anyways, I was in the restroom, doing what every normal person does in a restroom, when I was rudely interrupted, from my rather santified tradition, by apocalyptic-raucous-defeaning knocks on the door by "no other than" Cam J.
"It must be Rebecca, then it must be Rebecca, " said Cam J, in a muffled sound. I hadn't opened the door yet, cuz I was still all up in my business (don't "tmi" me, cuz I trying to make you comprehend the gravitiy of the situation).
I opened the door with a rather livid-cindarella's- step-mother-diabolical-type visage..."WHAT must be me?"
"Someone brought crap into the house, so just check your shoe...[blah, blah, blah]" Eric said.
And there it was, right on my poor little Walmart sandal. The dang little abominable ball of dog crap from hell, somehow made it to the sole of my shoe and into the blessed white carpet of a neighbor. AGAIN.
The obstrusive stench had already fumigated every inch and corner of Tamara's brand new apartment, and in the peripheral part of my vision I could see Tamara showering, literally showering, Lysol mist everywhere. The spray might have been Oust or some variation of the sort, but the point is that now the friggin' apartment was gorged with a conglomeration of pestilential-toxicalbration of amoniacal-lethalization of abhorrent-causticalimation of CACA and CLOROX.
We dug out the crevices of my sandal with mini wire-closings (the ones you tie around loaves of bread), and dumped the washings by the porch of Tamara's door (because is was like midnight, and she lived on the third floor; hence, I was too lazy to go down three flights and back in the name of caca).
The end.
P.S. Thanksgiving went on fine. Oddly enough, turkey auroma seams to dominate everything else.
posted by Becca @ 11:47 AM
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