Thursday, May 04, 2006

It's The Stank! Run For Your Lives!

Day Two of chaos*. Trevor hid my essential work notebook in a bookshelf. I was cooking dinner last night, and since I’m not the most patient person when I have to cook, the conversation went something like this:
(Trev) “What can I do to help?”
“You can get the table ready.”
“The table-table?”
“No! Tsk. We have to watch Amazing Race,” I said in a tone as though the task in front of us was ‘squeezing the dog’s anal gland’ (which I’ll get to).
“What should I do with these?”
I don’t even turn around to see what he’s holding, “I don’t care!”
“Okay! I’ll put them here.”
“Fine!”

‘Here’ turned out to be the bookshelf and ‘these’ turned out to be exactly what I needed to have on hand when my boss called this morning.

In other news, I am having a ‘Stank morning’. I took the dog to the park as usual and when I came home I sat at my desk only to notice The Stank. The Stank is a smell. A persistent, oily fish smell caused by a little drop from the dog’s hind end. It hovers, does The Stank.

So I did The Stank Dance, which is where you rip your clothes off like a mad person and sniff every inch, every centimeter of fabric. I mean, this must look insane to the neighbours but The Stank does something to your brain. You simply MUST FIND THE STANK. Then burn the piece of clothing.

Then it occurred to me, as I was ripping off my jeans, I smelled like this at the dog park. I wore The Stank when I had conversations with people! F*******ck!!!

Trevor once took The Stank to work. Probably preemptive payback for when, months later, he would hide my work notebook on the bookshelf.

*Yes, I realize that if my shit wasn’t all over the place to begin with, I’d likely not have these problems. Shut up.

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