Give me your tired, your hungry, your aching…
…just don’t, please don’t give me your tea kettles, because I will kill them.
No joke. I will burn the blazing hell out of them(sorry, Sophie!) and leave them flaming and melting on the stove ’til the whole freakin’ kitchen is filled with greasy black ash on every surface and draping from the cobwebs like some ghastly post-apocalyptic Halloween prank.
I don’t limit myself to tea pots-my pyromaniacal destruction of kitchen pans over the years has ranged from saucy sauce pans to cast iron(and man, does it take talent to massacre one of those babies), but I do seem to have a special vendetta against kettles.
Gah.
Scrubbing for three hours straight is so not how I wanted to spend my evening.
oh well, at least the top of the fridge is cleaner than it has ever been.
June 6th, 2008 at 10:46 pm
Absent-minded Artists Blowing Up Stuff Dept.
Wow- I think it’s the bad weather that encourages this kind of thing- this morning, I blew up three hardboiling eggs all over my kitchen with a loud report after forgetting them to nap thru the gray morning. Whistling teapots are our friends…
out of chaos come surprises…
Chirps,
BB
June 7th, 2008 at 1:37 am
hahaha! i can just see it.
certainly wakes you up.
June 15th, 2008 at 6:41 pm
Zan I love you. I miss living with you and watching you scrub. it was so much fun.
June 15th, 2008 at 8:32 pm
goddamn, i miss you too-bonfires are just not as much fun without you and your guitar and snuggles..