4 posts tagged “poop”
Okay, so I left you all hanging back on Part I with departing from Fragrance Lake.
I went back to work and a couple days later my ear is aching bad. It gets all red and starts puffing up. So I figured... crap I managed to get something in my ear that got it all infected and now I have an ear infection. So I run up to Chek-Medical (a walk-in chain clinic that is no longer in existence... I'm probably living proof why as you will see) and I report that I have pain in my ear and swelling.
The put me in a room, they have me strip down and hand me what amounts to a backless paper towel for a gown. A lady doctor comes in, gives me a PAP and rams a finger up my bung hole. I'm laying there uncomfortably with K-Y oozing out of places it never should have been in the first place when the doctor tells me everything looks to be in order and wants to know if I need a doctor's note for work.
I kind of look at her puzzled and inform her that I was in there for MY EAR, not my rear. She picks up my folder and I notice that it's not even my freakin' name on it. She gets a puzzled look on her face, gets up with the folder and walks out. A nurse comes in later and tells me I can put my clothes back on and that the Doctor will be with me shortly. A different Doc comes in and puts one of those ear thingies in my ear, takes all of 2 minutes looking in my ear and orders the nurse to give me a shot in the ass of antibiotics. The Doctor says I have an ear infection and the harpoon the nurse is ramming into my ass cheek should take care of it, if I should feel worse in three days I should come back for re-examination.
Three days later and I now have a fever of 102, my ear is literally twice it's normal size... think like a big bright pink cartoon balloon ear. That's what I was sporting. So I go back into Chek Med, and big surprise, I get another new doctor. This one looks in my ear, pokes the outside of the swollen lobe and asks me if that hurts... I am freaking welling up with tears and wanting to put my balled up fist in his crotch with force from the pain I am feeling from his poking. I get TWO more shots of antibiotics and a prescription for Cipro... you know the stuff they use to treat anthrax victims. They give me the strongest prescription available, 14 horse-pills, twice a day. I was told that the Cipro will kill anything in my system within a day or two.
Cipro has some seriously strong side effects. Keep in mind that not only do I now have Cipro coursing through my veins, I also have three antibiotic injections of unknown properties that have been and probably still were coursing through my system at that point. So keep this in mind, it will be important later.
So another three days go by and my fever is up to 103 without a break, I am really sick. My ear was so swollen it was as big as the palm part of your hand and the swelling had now gone down into my cheek, neck and up by my eye. This antibiotic crap is not working. I go to the Emergency Room because I felt like I was going to die, they set up an emergency appointment for me to go in and be treated by an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist. Woohoo! Finally someone who knows WTF they are doing! So I get over to this specialists office and they usher me in right away. He picks up one of those pointy ear looky devices and he goes "Oh my. Oh my. Hmmm, do you know what is happening in your head young lady?"
Of course, I do not know, if I had known I could have probably gotten fixed long before this fiasco.
So before I can answer him, he has me laid down with my head sideways and the swollen ear pointing to heaven above. He breaks out this mini vacuum and some long slender tongs and what looks like a mini speculum. Yep... it's a speculum alright, he wedges it into my ear hole (which is all but closed shut from the swelling) and he starts suctioning out my ear.
Now for anyone who has ever endured having their ears cleaned out like this.... imagine you have the feeling of a high power vacuum sucking out your eyeball from behind. You can feel the changes in pressure throughout your entire head. It's a rather uncomfortable experience to say the least.
The I smell something. Something rotten, like beer and vinegar mixed together. I feel something move through my ear toward the opening, whatever it is, it is big and it hurts and it freaking STINKS! I feel all the pressure in my ear suddenly release as whatever is in the Doctor's tongs is freed from my ear with a soft sounding *thuuup*
He bends over towards my face with a smile on his face and brings the tongs up to where I can see what it is. The smell of it makes my head involuntarily jerk back from the repulsive stench... and here I thought it smelled bad when he was pulling it out! He says "Well, my girl, you had a mushroom growing in your ear, how about that"
Sure enough... there was this mushroom of sorts, all squished, dark brown and slimy looking. Not the kind you would want in your salad or in your brown gravy... but a forest fungus mushroom. Ewwww! So I told him about swimming in the lake, and he said that there were probably spores from mushrooms in the forest that were in the water and they found a nice warm, dark and moist place in my ear to start a little mushroom patch. Oh goody! Only, thankfully, my body was having none of that nonsense and made like it had an infection to try and force the shroomage out of my head. Hence all the fever, swelling and pain I had to endure up to this point.
We were both puzzled as to why Chek Medical never referred me to an Ears, Nose and Throat specialist right away. He said that given the time that had passed and the size of the mushroom that there was no way in hell they didn't see it in there when they looked inside. Who knows... my story and probably many others who were misdiagnosed there are the reasons why that place is no longer in existence. Although, I do still wonder what was wrong with the woman whose chart was wrongfully with me on that first visit. The woman whose chart got my special orifices needlessly examined.
So he informs me to finish out my Cipro prescription and reassures me that it is a good antibiotic and should kill off any residual after effects, we schedule a follow up appointment for a week later and I go on my merry mushroom-free way.
Within hours my temperature returned to normal and the swelling on my face and ear was starting to subside. It couldn't have happened at a better time because in a couple days it would be Halloween and that was the day of my friends wedding!!!
Holy Ear Mushrooms, Batman... it looks like we need to leave off once again before this gets too long to hold your attention. We are gonna have to make this one a Trilogy. I know, I know... I'm terrible, but I promise you that in the end it will be worth it, so I promise the third part will be the final chapter. It's a story that needs to be told the right way, you guys and gals deserve nothing less :)
Okay, okay....
It has been a long, long, long, long-long while since I have written anything. I have a few good ones too, but those will have to wait, for too many of you have been pestering me via Vox-mail and in my comments to regale you in the tale of my poo exploits. (not that I mind the pestering... keep it up otherwise I may disappear into the ethers again hehehe)
It's a long story... a very long one. There are many pieces to it that all tie together. In order for you to get from A to Z I have to fill in the rest of the alphabet for you, otherwise it is just another stupid poop story. Also, you need to know that there were reasons beyond my lack of control and poop is not something that I enjoy, not on me, not in me not around me... in fact, not at all.
So I am going to take you back in time. We are going back a little over 12 or so years time, give or take (probably more give... but I don't want to feel so old dammit). I was working with a Printing company, I was doing all kinds of crap there. Printing, Pre-press, copying, binding (I'm a saddle stitching mastah!) and worst of all handling some of the retail grunt work. Later all of this moved me into a sweet postition as the head of Marketing and Sales for the company... but I had to wade through the mire of stupid customers who don't understand that a tight register 3 color print job needs seperated artwork and metal plates for offset printing. Arg! Sorry for the digression there... old scars of retail make me wander off in tangent mode when I start thinking back like this. Hey, I'm old... I'm allowed a few tangents now and again ;) But the good part of retailing is that it put me in touch with a select few folks who became great friends, so it's not all that bad I guess.
So my shop was located between an old Movie Theatre, a Thai Restaurant and a Sub Shop. I used to get all kinds of free stuff, local under the table bartering with the locals got me free lunchs and movies hehehehe. I made friends with my fellow working stiffs, one of which worked at the Movie Theatre. We will call him Mr T. Mr T was an ultra cute hip gay guy. Tons of fun to hang out with and we fast became close buds and took our friendship beyond one of people who work next to each other and we hung out all the time. One day I decided to go into the Sub Shop where I met a new guy working there, who we will call Mr K. Mr K was hilarious and quirky and full of energy, and he also so happened to be a gay guy. Well, he and I began a friendship, as well, quite similar to the one that Mr T and I had going on. Then it occured to me one day... I should introduce these two! They are perfect for each other. And in all honesty... they totally were. So, after I made it a point to find out if they were both single and free, I hit up Mr T and asked him if he wanted to meet someone and he said sure and then did the same with Mr K... he also said sure.
Wooo! Now I would get to hang out with both my friends at the same time, this was rockin'!
So we all decided that a good place to go without any sort of strongs attached was a night of dancing at The Vogue. It used to be the coolest place to go in Seattle. So we went on Industrial Disco Nights and the group of folks that I would hang out with would all decide what our "theme" was going to be for the night. We would dress up as a group in a particular theme and crash the place filled with goths, cutters and the melancholy. So this night we decided that we wanted to be 1980's Big Hair Porn Stars. Oh yeah, baby you get the picture. Low cut spandex tops with acid washed jeans with slashes all the way down the legs and in the ass, stiletto heels (or cowboy boots for the dude... extra points for snakeskin) nearly neon makeup and HUGE hair. We were always quite the attraction every Friday night there with our weird matching group dressed up differently every Friday Night.
So they met and they had hearts in their eyes all night long (awwwww I love it when a plan comes together!), and after that night they could not be seperated. A month goes by and we all find ourselves dressing our renditions of Jungle Lad from Beyond the Valley of the Dolls to get our Friday Night Vogue on and Mr T and Mr K announce that they are getting married. We alll squeal with delight and have loads of drinks of cheer in their honor. After the Vogue closes down, we are all walking home along 1st Avenue when they both tell me that they want me to perform their wedding ceremony. OMG! So sweet, I must say I was stoked and then a little scared because I had no idea what the hell to do. Washington State does not recognize gay marriages, so thy felt that it left them open to pick whomever they wanted to oversee their vows and since I had introduced them they asked me to do it. So I said yes. I mean what else could I say!
They picked a date.... Halloween night in Discovery Park. Costumes and all. I had a couple months to prepare and a friend tipped me off that I could get a mail order license to marry people and I figured that if Washington State ever pulled their heads out and let same-sex unions happen, then my friends would have the real deal. So I went to this funky little shop and picked up the kit. I had a long list of types of licenses you could get. I can't remember the organization that you mailed your kit to that hands out these ordinations... but they had a long list of titles that you could adhere to (in name only for the sake of marrying people)... pastor, minister, captain, swami. WTF Swami!? Oh damn, I saw that on the list and my first thought was that I did not see myself ever being called Pastor Kelly, sounded way too Televangelist to me. Can't you just see it now, me on TV with a pink beehive hairdo and make-up ala Tammy Faye: Pastor Kelly needs your donations to marry a couple gay guys! So I gravitated right to the Swami. Why? Because I liked the idea and the sound of being a Swami better than Pastor. So I ticked off the box, sent in my $65 bucks and a few weeks later got myself a letter of certification to marry under the title of Swami. So I was set to go and officiate the marriage. Woot!
So now we got that part out of the backstory out of the way, we move onto the next part of the story.
It is currently early September, a little over a month from my friend's wedding date. A few friends and I decide to go on one last hike to kiss Summer goodbye. We decide on Fragrance Lake, up off Chuckanut Drive north of Seattle. Yes... Chuckanut Drive is what I said. At the top of the of a pretty steep climb from Chuckanut to Frangrance Lake lies this placid and beautiful lake. It is very shielded from wind from a dense forest that surrounds it and it is usually mirror-like on the surface. It's a perfect swimming lake being all warm, smooth and inviting. The trees and even the water there are so perfumey and fragrant, it is like a little piece of heaven after the steep climb up.
So we all peel down to our underwear and dive in for a well deserved swim. The lake was in bloom. The waters were a little murky, which is unusual for this lake. Usually it is so clear you can see the bottom far from the shore through its jade green waters. We didn't care though, we were having fun. Almost too much fun, as the sun started slipping away from us we knew we had to trek it fast down the hill to make it back to the cars in time before we were stuck in the dark. None of us having the thought to bring a damned flashlight. About 3/4 of the way down, we find ourselves taking turns lighting Bic lighters to find our way back down to the trailhead. We finally make it safe and sound and we split up a package of Grandma's Molasses Cookies amongst 4 people and one Coke. The whole 2 hour drive home I am dealing with an obnoxiously annoying feeling of water in my ear. The going home scenerey passes before me sideways as I spend the rest of the trip with my head tilted sideways trying to get the damn water out of my ear to no avail. Little did I know what doom lay ahead for me from a seemingly innocent dip in the lake with friends.
Oh man... look at this, how time flies when I sit and type for you guys and gals. Okay, I will come back tomorrow and give you some more before you get too bored to continue reading anymore :)
We left off here yesterday, and there are some who are in tune with what was about to transpire. You will see that soon enough....
So this enormous man plops down in the plastic seat in front of us. The seats are zip tied together. Think metal framed plastic seats you'd see at a garden party... that was what we were sitting in. His chair was complaining under the stress and the entire row lurched back about a good 12 inches backwards... which would put his ass damn near in my lap.
Ras and I look at each other with this half worried and half humored expression.... a million thoughts were exchanged at that moment without a single word spoken between us. We're cool like that with each other.
So moments go by, the short older man sitting next to me is groping up the side of my leg and keeps touching my ass. I slam my fist into his over explorative hand on the side of my thigh making his second attempt for my ass and I look at him with a pissed off look and I say "Oh sorry didn't see your hand there." finishing it off with a glare and the all too clear warning that if he touches me again he'll be drawing back a bloody stump.
Ras and I sit there and talk about the Stones. Ras recalls seeing them when he was a kid with his father and I keep squealing like a little girl because this is my first time seeing the Stones and I am super excited.
Then the big man turns around to face us, he informs us that he has seen them 3 times and how electric they are on stage. He gives us insights as to how the show is going to unfold, with the stage seperating and moving through the crowd. We confirm with the security guy standing there and he tells us that we can leave out seats and come stand on the railing when the stage starts moving, needless to say we are jacked. We thank the big man for his tip and he nods back to us and tells us to have a great time, we do the same. He seems like a sweet guy and we all get excited sitting there waiting.
Then the first crunch of the guitar rings out. EVERYONE jumps to their feet and starts screaming their heads off. We were no different. The first image on the enormous big screen that lights up from the darkness is Keith Richards in all his corpsely glory. Then we hear it "Hellooooo Seattle!" The crowd gets hysterical! There is Mick Jagger prancing around, full of more energy than should be legal for a man his age. They break into "Jumping Jack Flash" right off the bat. The place is buzzing. This kicks so much ass!
Sometime during the first song I get the strong whiff of fart. My head jerks back like someone just slapped me in the face. It was not just a fart wafting over the crowd... no friends this was a HOT STANK spilling forth from some nearby ass crack. I look at Ras and immediately say "I smell a fart, and it's not me!" He puts his nose in the air and reels for a second and nods with a sour look on his face.
Now those of you who know me (and especially those who know me well) know that I have this phobia about crap. I do not like poop. I don't like to go poop. I don't like anything to do with poop. I poop because my body wants to... not becuase I want to. Poop is gross. What is as bad, if not worse than poop? Smelling someone's fart. That is poop air. It is gases being explused with force past a big giant turd in someone's asshole. When someone farts they are making you smell their poop air... that is DISGUSTING! And I am not shy about expressing my disgust when someone launches a fart in my presence. If you are rude enough not to walk 10 feet away, or excuse yourself to a bathroom to juice out your inner gases in private and not subject others to your ass air... then I am going to say something and it isn't going to be nice. Farting next someone or within nose distance of someone is as bad as shitting on a plate and holding it under their nose. Foul and disgusting. But I digress...
So the smell disappears, but there is that slight linger still remaining so I know it's close. I shoot a glance around to see if I can see any guilty faces... nope. No one has that "I just farted look" on their mugs so I go back to enjoying the show.
Then it happens again. Only this time it smells like the pit toilet experience I had when I when back country hiking this summer. This is not a fart. This is full on turd and it is close.
I am suffering, the smell is so strong is is making me nauseated. And not because of just my mental phobic reaction... really the smell was stronger than any outhouse I have been in. It was rank. I keep looking up to Ras, my eyes watering and saying "I smell shit, and it's bad!" His face is all contorted, so I know that I am not over-racting here. Every time the the smells rears its ugly head again, both of us have that jerking being smacked in the face reaction. Ras is wrapping my hair around my face so I have something better to smell, it is working a little. Then Ras leans over and says "I think it's that big guy." I groan.
Then the big guy sits down. The smell gets decidely better. Not as pungent, still there but not making our eyes water. At some point he stands back up and his once white plastic chair is smeared with brown. Yes folks.... massive skid marks. Now the smell is so bad I feel like passing out. Ras, being the sweet and wonderful gentleman he is, moves me to his seat and tries to take mine, but ass grabby dude moves over into my seat area so Ras is stuck behind me now with no place to go. To be honest, I'm glad ass grabber got stuck there, he deserved that. Jerk.
Now both of us are gagging, literally gagging from the smell. The stage starts moving and we BOLT like lightning for the railing. Dear God! Fresh air at last!!! We breathe deeply and we REALLY enjoy this portion of the show. It's fresh air... Keith Richards drips his corpse sweat on me I scream with part excitement and part fear that I might start having acid flashbacks from his tainted sweat, Mick Jagger is shaking his ass 6 feet away from our faces... it just doesn't get better than this! The stage rolls by and down the middle of the entire stadium right to the people in the back seats. So those who had back of the stadium seats now have front row tickets. The Stone LOVE their fans. Mick Jagger gives EVERYONE in the stadium attention, his eyes shine and he has a smile the whole time. He points at people like they are old friends... it's obvious he loves what he is doing and he loves the crowd for loving what he is doing. So we stay on the rail long enough to watch the stage come rolling back to position front and center when the security team starts ushering people back into their seats. Only our seats are gone. Everyone in our row shifted over and took our seats. So we stand on the edge of the platform next to the rail, again the security guy starts yelling at us.
So I end up going over to the security guy, he questions me why Ras and I switched seats, Ras says "Tell him about that dude!" So I explain to them that when Ras and I switched seats due to the big man shitting his pants and the smell being so disguting that I could not stand it, that's when things got farked up. During that switch ass grabby jerk shifted over into my seat and never budged. So I told the security guy, if you want us to take our seats you get someone out here to move ass grabby jerk and the rest of the row down.
The security guy gives us a look like he didn't believe us about the man shitting his pants. The man was at this point sitting down so there was no evidence to support our case. The security supervisor comes rolling out and tries in vain to get our row to move two seats down. Of course everyone looks at him, ignores him and turns to face the stage. So he looks at us and says "You can't stand on this platform, so squeeze in and do the best you can do."
So we try to squeeze back into our seats, this short 40-ish yuppy bitch that was next to Ras starts shoving me. So I shove her back and stand my ground. All of a sudden it feels like an Anthrax or Germs concert. I shoot her an evil glance as if to say "Don't mess with me bitch I've been breathing the toxic all night long and I might just go kung fu caaarazee on your ass." she looks sheepish, like she knows she farked up and that's the end of that crap. The big dude stands back up and the smell nails us hard. We had been breathing the free and clean air by the railing that we had almost forgotten the reek of the shitty pants.
Both of us are groaning. I am complaining loud enough for the big man to hear us now. I am pissed off at this point. Pissed that someone does not have the decency to go to one of the MANY public restorooms in that stadium and take care of his business. Also pissed that if he does have a problem that is medical that he didn't bring some kind of protection... I've known people with bowel issues and there are undergarmets and diaper type devices that they make to help those people have a normal life. The smears on this guy's seat were so bad it looked like he pulled his pants down and wiped his ass with the chair.
I see a light flash me in the face. I look to my left and the security guy is waving me over. He shines the light on the guy's seat and he gives me a sympathetic look. He says "I thought you were joking.... that is disgusting! You two can stand on the rail for the rest of the show."
At this time, the Stones were just coming back out onto the stage for their encore. What did they start it with?
"You Can't Always Get What You Want"
We got what we wanted... clean air to breathe, the priviledge of being on the railing with no one else around us.
Then the Stones started the one song I had been waiting all night to see them play live....
"Satisfaction"
I started howling. Mick Jagger came and sang right in front of us, we were so close we could almost touch him. We were going crazy.
We got satisfaction in those last few moments of the concert, it made the worst of the worst that we had to endure almost forgettable while we sang loudly back at Mick Jagger and laughed and screamed.
When the concert ended, we praised and thanked the security guy for making our night. He apologized profusely that our night had been ruined because of it, we reassured him that becuase of his gesture it made up for everything. The big man nearly hurdled the seats knocking people out of the way, like a linebacker, as soon as the concert ended. We all watched in horror as the now brown butted once grey sweat pants moved off into the distance. The security guy asked us if the guy was drunk or something and we told him that the guy seemed like a sweet man, just that he obviously had issues. The security guard said "Well, after I saw the seat and after hearing what you told me, when he sat back down I watched him and from the looks on his face he wasn't finished filling his pants." Then the security guy made "poop faces". We all went "Ewwwww!" then had a laugh. The security supervisor came over to offer his apologies about our seats getting taken and about the poop experience, then jokingly asked us if we'd like to hang around and clean it up. Both of us politely passed and we all joked about the situation being one to remember.
In the end of it all... the entire concert was fun. The Stones were amazing. The shitting of the pants was unfortunate, but turned out to our advantage in the end with getting the chance to be so close to the stage and so close to Mick Jagger while he sang right in front of us. So I don't know whether to be upset at the Big Shit Man or to thank him.
Maybe a little of both.
The sad part is that Dave Matthews was opening up for them. Ugh. Okay... I know that there are a ton of people out there that adore their music. That's fine you like what you like and I know what I don't like. I'll detour here a second to explain myself and the reasons why I don't like them... hopefully it will curb anyone's desire to help me "see the Dave Matthews light". I can not be turned... it's the dark side for me all the way on this issue.
I had their music shoved down my throat by an Ex. All he could listen to and talk about was Dave Matthews Band. Dude... marry them already geez. All it sounded like to me was the male version of Alanis Morrisette (whom I also dislike). Whining heart break music trying to be all smart. This dudette can not abide.
I like alot of music... I am a music whore. I have a little of everything and I am not exaggerating. I have a very lengthy musical background... symphony woodwind and classical piano. I understand the complexities of music. I've dated musicians, I've been surrounded by musicians all my life and omfg... I married a talented musician and artist. So I'm not your average idiot when it comes to music. I have an intimate and in depth appreciation for many types of music.
I figured I'd make the best of it going into the concert. I've gone to concerts in the past not liking an opening act and ended up falling in love with them due to their performances and presence on stage. I went in with an open mind and wanting... really truely wanting them to make me like them.
One thing I can not stand... music that is pretentious and music that tries too hard. Dave Matthews Band falls into this category. Don't get me wrong... every single member of that band is an amazingly talented group of musicians. There is no doubt at all that each of them know their craft to a tee. They are tight. Too tight. In fact they are so perfect that their music lacks any soul whatsoever. It's boring. Every note you expect to be there is there, in its place and never waivering. There is zero feeling of spontaneity and flow. It's like a bunch of metered robots going through the motions... boring. When they got to the "solo" portions of their act... the obligatory portion of the show where the lead man introduces everyone and they rip off a little solo for your pleasure... these solos where not felt in the moment... they were a perfectly rehearshed and measured piece of the music being played in the background... it was like the sound guy just turned up that one guy's amp a little louder than the rest. The most souless solo I've ever encountered. What happened to jamming live???? Show us you can play and jam and FEEL the music as it happens... not that you are playing it same as you have played it the last 150 times. Boring.
I'll touch on one last thing before moving on to the rest of my story. They played 5 songs. 5 songs that each lasted like 15 mnutes each. Every single song had 5 endings. It's like having sex with an annoying guy who won't "finish".
Guy: "Oh oh I'm almost there... almost there"
Girl: "Oh yeah baby"
Guy "Nope nope not yet. oh wait, almost there almost there"
Girl: "Yeah yeah!"
Guy: "Oh... mmm.... yeah oh there it is! Nope almost it's almost there!"
Girl: "......" *yawn*
Guy: "Oh wait here it comes, yeah oh there there here it is, yeah yeah yeah yeah, oh man it's so close yeah"
Girl: "zzzzzz"
Guy: "It's here baby, oh yeah it is here!"
Girl: "well... it's about freaking time... I was done a long time ago!"
This is what listening to Dave Matthews Band play live is like. I wanted to yell "Get off the freaking stage!" but I was afraid that the singing offkey harpy behind me would have knifed me with her dragon lady Lee Press-ons.
It's a tight, overly rehearsed souless musical ejaculation. I can't think of a better way to describe it, and I am sorry to all of you who cream over Dave Matthews band... I just can't share your enthusiasm in being a fan.
So Dave Matthews band FINALLY gets off the stage. The tension starts building as we see their set being pulled apart.... making room for the big stars. The Grandaddies of Rock and Roll! The air is filled with that sound of a murmuring crowd, every once in a while coming from a remote location someone screams and like a virus it is picked up by the rest of the thousand voices. Excitement is in the air like electricity... this is going to be amazing! The vibes are incredible, the crowd is fun, the seats are just a mere few feet away from where our idols would be walking in front of us singing our favorite songs. ELECTRIC!
That is when the seat in front of me gets filled by a 400+ pound man.
oh... crap I don't have time to finish this right now! I have to run and pick up some sundries and dinner items before it gets too late to get anything done. I leave you with this to digest, to ponder what is to come. I'm pretty sure that you will not believe it, even when I tell it to you. Stay tuned! Coffee, Fabric Softener and Dinner await me!
