I just fought with my shower rod for forty-five minutes. The plan was to put up the new sushi shower curtain that The Idiot got me for Crystalmas, but the rod had different plans.

After taking down the old shower curtain and tossing out the liner, I proceeded to take all of the palm trees off of the hooks (because palm trees don’t match sushi) and then put up a new liner and my groovy new curtain. But for some reason, the rod was up too high when I moved in (along with the towel rods) which made the bathroom look like it was made for the Jolly Green Giant (not to be confused with JGJ). So, I decided, “Hell, while I am doing this, I might as well move this down a bit.” Wrong.

Things started out well. I was able to move the rod down a few inches that almost made it so that the liner actually fell INSIDE the tub (because seriously, it was up way too high). But then, being the supreme genius that I am, I decided that I would try and move it down further. Wrong again. Once removed the blasted thing refused to adjust. At all.

I tried twisting the thing the wrong way. I tried taking it apart and reassembling it. I tried electrical tape. Hell, I even tried banging it against the wall (while making all the hooks fall off). When finally, I thought I had finally made it work, I walked out into the kitchen for a much needed cigarette and no sooner did I have it lit than, BANG, CRASH, BOOM.


Needless to say, I put the damn thing right back where it was, kept in place by the top of the tile, cursed the hell out of it, and sat down on the toilet seat and fought off tears of frustration.

THIS is why boys are necessary in life.

So, I got myself a beer, took a shower and gave my self a pedicure. And now I am just trying not to enter the bathroom so that I don’t have to think about it anymore…

Phew…I feel better now. (Although…that might have something to do with the beer.)

On a lighter note: I HAVE BEN HARPER TICKETS. I know, I know…people who have no money should not spend any on tickets. But I look at it this way, if he is going to divorce (that stupid horse-looking bitch) Laura, then I am going to have to make sure I make it on our sixth date. (I invited a couple thousand people along. And I’m paying. I am such a gentleman.) Hopefully, this time when he is singing (to me) there will be no little whore pushing her way in front of me, giggling. Because, be warned little girl, I have heels and I know how to use them. (But I’m not bitter.)

Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "My Sister" - Juliana Hatfield Three


soopadoopachaloopa said...

just remember the heels are only effective if the little whore is on the ground or the shoe is in your hand.

spliffany said...

ben ben bo ben..
bananafana fo fen ...
me my mo men...