I am very busy today. Veerrrrry biiiiiizzzzzy. Ordering my snorkel gear for my upcoming trip. I have an aversion to using communal snorkel gear. There’s a lot of mouths out there I wouldn’t wanna kiss (well, to be fair, there’s a lot I have kissed that I probably shouldn’t have, too), and it’s sort of intimate like that to me. Not that I tongue the tube or anything (that’s what she said! Booyah!).
So I’m going to Mexico prepared. I’m also going prepared with 2 giant cups, because it’s an all-inclusive liquor extravaganza, and I want a Big Cup when I’m getting my margarita. I’m taking 2 cups so that my friendie will have a cup of giant margarita, too. I’m considerate like that. So there.
In other news.
I don’t have a lot of other news. I am planning to begin a fasting/cleansing diet of sorts, it’s a 7-day event, and it’s sort of weird. For instance, on Day 1, you eat fruit. Only fruit, nothing but the fruit, so help you Garth, sans bananas. Day 2 is all vegetables, all the vegetables you wish, sans potatoes. And then on Day 3 you eat potatoes and bananas and drink up some milk or something like that. Day 4 is beef & tomatoes day. And then there’s some weirdo stuff on the other days, strange-o combinations, but I figure it’s only for 7 days, and heck, I’ve got to prepare the Temple for chips, guacamole and margaritas. So that may start today, depending upon when I get up and go to the grocery store. I am anticipating starting today, and therefore have only had coffee (approved) and peaches so far for breakfast.
The things we buy into. Kenny, for the record, has scoffed and said, “No way, Pal, I’m not buying into this hocus–pocus.” I told him he’ll be regretting that decision when it’s baked potato and banana dinner on Monday. Because if that’s what I’m eating, that’s all that I’m cooking, so he might as well get on board.
Speaking of cooking. My kitchen stinks. Literally, not figuratively. A reminder, we don’t have a dishwasher (well, we do, her name is Trixie Bang Bang), and our dishwasher works intermittently. But our cook (also named Trixie Bang Bang) cooks intermittently, so it’s not like there’s a huge pile up of dishes at the moment.
However. Something in there stinks. And last night I finally got to the root of the problem. While there are only about 6 things in the sink (collected one-at-a-time during the week) that need washed, there was a Sink-Stink Culprit. That item? An egg poacher contraption. Whereas our cook poached an egg last weekend, and then just put a little water in the poacher and closed it back up to “soak”. That turned into a stagnant-water-and-rotten-egg smell. Who wants to move in? I’m taking applications.
I’m tempted to just throw the poacher out, but that wouldn’t be wise. I’ve got it sprayed down with harsh chemicals to kill the smell in anticipation of the washing of the 6 dishes.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I need a wife. A good, old-fashioned-Leave-it-to-Beaver wife. Because our cook and maid? Suck. I’m also taking applications for that. Line forms at the rear (that’s what she said?).
Alrightie, I’m off to write up a shopping list. Don’t envy me. My life isn’t as glamorous as it sounds.