No! No More Washy!
I just ate a sandwich and it was ok. Then I put on my boots and kicked the sandwich plate into my bedroom. I'm tired of washing dishes! Strangely enough, I am not yet tired of walking around the heap of broken plates in my bedroom. When I run out of unbroken plates I'm going to stop eating entirely and live off of whatever nutrients I can absorb from my bedding. See, I'm also tired of washing my nutrient-rich bedding. I wish I hadn't forced my maid to drink poison. Her last words were "Someday you'll regret forcing me to drink poison." Huh. The future is now, bitches.
3 Comments:
Paper plates! Why shuffle off this mortal coil having just taken down a random maid when you can take an entire forest or two with you as well? Sure, used paper ware stacks up (naturally, you won't want to trouble yourself with having to cart them all the way to trash container under the sink - like you ever empty it, anyway), but that just makes for convenient little condos for the roaches.
In my partnered days when I had a "real job" I had to get up for, I exploited the inability to remember the first hourafter waking up by spending the time doing grungy things, like the dishes.
We had the usual alternating "I'll cook, you wash up" arrangement, and I'd know I was dogboxed when she'd deep-fry chips. In times of disharmony, we'd compete trying to find recepies that generated the worst wash-up. Greaseburgers in sump oil with egg and beetroot on the side?
Nowdays I eat microwave warm-ups, and toss everything with me in the bath, along with fruit straight from the fridge (try this with peaches; it's *great*). The garden plants thrive on the water after this process ;-)
"No More Washy" reminds me of Errata Stigmata. Wow, how that meme has caught on! Not the book, not the band, but the comic; current first relevant Google hit is http://www.fantagraphics.com/artist/lr/cards/lrcast.html
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