I figure it’s time for an update. I know it’s time for an update when people I talk to daily ask me how I’m doing. Believe me, I wish I wrote more on this here blog, but I don’t have much to write about these days. Well, not much to write about that’s actually worthwhile for me to write and for you to read. The latter weighs on me more heavily.
Tom came back from Army Camp Saturday morning. It’s good to have him back in the place. Rent is cheaper, and I can blame somebody else for The Mess. On the way back from the airport, we stopped at Costco to load up on foodstuffs. It’s weird having all this food in the house. I’m completely not used to it. For example, the other night, I was sitting in front of my computer, as I usually do, and realized I was starving. I thought to myself, “Wow, I’m hungry, but I really don’t want to leave the apartment for food. Plus, I’ll be asleep in a few hours anyway.” About two seconds later I remembered my refrigerator was packed to the icebox with food. So I ate some wheat thins.
Speaking of food being in weird places, I guess I don’t have that much luck with milk, heat, and spoilage. A few weeks ago, a co-worker and I bought a lot of chocolate milk. I didn’t finish mine, so I decided to bring it home for dinner. Unfortunately, I put it in the back of my truck cab. More unfortunately, I completely forgot about it. Even more unfortunately, I recently parked in the sun on a warmer day. Yesterday, as I was unlocking my truck, I noticed a particularly vile smell. As you can imagine, I, living as a bachelor, must be used vile smells and so tend not to notice them, so this vile smell must have been an extremely particularly vile smell. I hurriedly got into my truck so as to escape this extremely particularly vile smell only to find the extremely particularly vile smell had become an overwhelmingly extremely particularly vile smell. Around this time I passed out.
A blink of an eye later, I revived, made some colorful comments about the smell, rolled down my windows, and drove off to church in the hopes the pilgrammage to chapel would exorcise this devil’s flatulence from my truck. I was astounded how bad the smell was, and I couldn’t believe that it would not leave my truck. Using powerful deductive logic I determined that something inside my truck must be causing the smell. A brief scan around the interior revealed no likely culprit, so I used an even more powerful form of deductive logic to determine that the smell would go away if I ignored it. After church, I approached my truck with trepidation. I had good reason to be trepidatious, as the smell was still there in full force. This time I made a more thorough searching of the cab, starting from left to right. First, I popped the driver’s seat foward, and, lo, I found the culprit. A half empty bottle of chocolate milk had exploded, expelling a stream of rancid, curdled chocolate milk all under my seat.
I would wager the smell related above was on par with the the smell that should never be smelled.