|
|
| Living with The Rob |
 |
|
Check out update #1.5 (1/19/04) at the bottom!
This is a little section where I get to give you a taste, if you will, of how it is to live with The Rob. You may also infer smells, tactile experiences, and miscellaneous noises from these photos and descriptions. I would like to place a disclaimer here, before we get started: While I am the best friend you will ever have, you DO NOT want to live with me unless you are my girlfriend. If you are not my girlfriend, I will give less than 1/10th of a shit about what you have to say about the state of the apartment. If you ARE my girlfriend, though, and you're living with me, you will get the respect and cleanliness normally afforded a good roomate...probably more, because in that case, I'd actually give a damn what you had to say. But anyway, here we go. Let's start in the kitchen. I love to cook. I cook A LOT of meat products, because I eat a lot. However, I HATE CLEANING UP. This leads to scenes such as the one you are currently witnessing in the picture to the right. This is my stove top. You will notice the congealed fat puddles on the spatula and frying pan. These are from the ground beef I cooked.....ehhhhh.....whenever. You may also notice the powdery filth around the heating element. That is from the spices I like to season the meat with. They tend to fly all over the place. Tastes good as fuck, though, I tell you WHHHHUT. I don't know what that brown stuff is to the right of the picture....I'll leave that to your imagination. And as an aside...for those of you who are thinking, "Eeeeeew, he's gonna get sick from leaving all that shit out all the time," you should stop being such pussies. I've NEVER, EVER gotten sick from eating food. I leave food out for DAAAYYYSSS at a time and nothing happens. You guys are fucking babies...stop crying....boofuckinghoo.
|
Now, let's turn around and look at the horror that is the sink. For once, I can actually blame this on someone else. There is general crap and mess in there, but one special gem I'm particularly fond of is what you see here. This baby started out, many, many moons ago as a pan my roommate used to pan sear some chicken. It's been stewing for at least a month now. I don't know how well you guys can see what's going on here, but basically what we have is a fungus of some sort that started at the surface and has projected itself down into the liquid medium. There is gelatinous, membrane-like material throughout the water in the pan. It is absolutely horrid. I can't even imagine what it's gonna smell like. I almost puked the last time I had to clean out a pan like that. And I don't puke. I was huddled in the far corner of the room, trying to hold my breath. And this is worse. Hahahahahahaaaaaaaa!!! Beeeeeautiful.
|
Turning now to our left from the sink, we focus our attention on the ubiquitous Forman Grill(e). I cook the majority of my solid (meaning non-ground up) meat stuffs here. Of note: the black grease-type stuff in the pan...mmmhmmm...talk about biological warfare...yeeeuh. Also, the lipid film on the Forman cooking surface is sexy, as well. Finally, you will notice the familiar orangish-brown spice they call "McCormick's SEASON ALLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!" Don't mind the empty pasta boxes. They're made of cardboard and don't rot very well unless wet...so sad, so sad...I know. |
Behind us, in the pantry, I must point out a pet project of mine I've been working on for a while now. This used to be a bag of about four or five potato bread hamburger rolls. It was left for a lot too long and began to grow a black-ish, green-ish mold. When I found it, I decided that, instead of wasting this wonderful spark of fungal life, I would cultivate it into a garden of spores and anti-biotics....or maybe just filth and disease...either/or...whatever. So, I opened the bag up, took a musty sniff, and ran about a quarter of a cup of water into the bag, resealed it, and put it back in the cupboard. That was about two months ago. This is the result. The volume of what used to be bread inside the bag has long since disintegrated to the point where the solid matter within the bag must be less than a handful. The bottom of the matter shows solid black fungus with white interlacings. The top and sides show a thick black cover with a haze of green tufty shit on top, along with other assorted yellows and browns. I'm not opening the bag. For real. Even my bulletproof immune system might wilt beneath the onslaught of this great beast. I did, however, return it to its growing spot to continue its decent into whatever hellish afterlife follows the demise of a once-great bag of yummy potato rolls.
|
Let us now turn our eyes to the wonderment of my "living" room. "Dying" room or "Dead" room may be more apt names for this place, but I like it nonetheless. The masterpiece of this area is the "coffee table". I honestly couldn't type that last sentence without bursting into laughter. The surface of this table hasn't seen the light of day for months now, not even thinking about coffee. Shiiiiiiiit. You will see, on the table, many fine articles, including the crusty pasta bowl, the fermenting ground beef plate, and the month-old hot sauce bottle sitting open. However, the greatest accomplishment you will notice, and perhaps one of the greatest accomplishments mankind has EVER witnessed, is what lies in the far left corner of the table, as we view it. That massive tower of platic and pride is my collection of empty yogurt containers. The number of containers stacked there must be upwards of sixty. It is, in all probability, the most beautiful piece of architecture since the Roman Coliseum. Maybe even better. Thank you, The Rob...Thank you.
|
Finally, let's take a journey into the dangerous lair of The Rob Himself. You will see, in the picture to the right, many of the ankle-breaking pitfalls within this room. You have, in the upper left corner, my spare tire. Behind the door are boxes I just never bothered to unpack since moving in this year. And no, I cannot close my door, due to these boxes...thanks. In front of the dresser, you will notice the assortment of disembodied car parts that lay strewn on the floor. Make sure not to trip or cut yourself on some of the rusty metal. No tetanus shot for you, dumbass. As you cross the floor, make sure to step carefully on the three or four layers of clothes and shoes that sit beneath your feet. Under some pieces may lie such things as sharp plastic chunks or my old motor mounts...those hurt...ouch. And don't step on the pile of books of papers there by the closet. You may never know what lost jewels of knowledge you may be crushing. Actually, wait...there's no knowledge in there. Fuck it...crush away.
|
|
I hope you've enjoyed a look into my humble abode. Should you ever come over, assuming you're a hot girl, the place will look much nicer, don't worry. If that assumption is wrong....well....I guess you're shit outta luck then, buddy.
|
UPDATE #1.5: 1/19/04
I read this book my dad gave to me recently. It's about an outbreak of a strain of Ebola virus that almost exploded into the human population near DC after infecting a bunch of monkeys that had been imported through shady ass avenues. Today, something horrible just about exploded into my apartment, and I felt it was time to handle this biaaaaatch. I donned my protective gear (a.k.a t-shirt wrapped around my head and soaked with Oscar de la Renta cologne to help kill the smell.....it didn't by the way) and went in for the kill. Even by my fecally-aclimated nose, the smell of this bowl was absolutely terrible. It was like if someone took a shit in the toilet in which you had vomited three days ago and never bothered to flush. And THEN, if they had left this concoction in a room at 110 degrees and 98% humidity for about a week, it would have approached the stench of this monster...maybe.
|
Here you can see the beat in its natural environment: the sink. Let me give you little background on how this thing came to be. It all started as a bowl of some kind of chicken-containing food. When the bowl was empty of its solid contents, it was put in the sink and filled with water. It then became a murky, off white, almost chicken broth-like mixture. I noticed its presence in the sink, but decided to see what would happen if I let it sit for, say....approximately 3 weeks. Well, kiddies...THIS is what happened. The water is now completely black, and the vomitous matter you see on the top is actually a semi-hard crust. If you come within about 6-8 feet of the bowl, the smell begins to overwhelm you. If you stupidly put your face near the bowl and take a nice whiff, as I did yesterday, you will certainly vomit, since it actually about gagged my ass, and I'm ungaggable. So, now you know what I was up against. It was so fucking bad that I called my mom to figure out the best way to get rid of such a horrid object. I figured if I just washed it down the sink, it would stink to fucking hell for all eternity. So, she got back to me this morning and told me to flush it down the toilet. What a novel idea!
|
So, I braced myself for the battle to come and warily took hold of the bowl. As I lifted it up, part of the crust broke free and swam nauseatingly aroudn the bowl, almost with a life of its own. Holding the bowl as far away from my face as possible (the cologne mask only helped significantly to about a 5 foot distance), I stepped quickly but cautiously (you've all seen my floors, duh) to the bathroom. I briefly considered what would have happened had I tripped on my way to the bathroom and spilled the contents of the bowl all over the pile of clothes next to my closet doors. Oh, the horror. I shut the damned vision from my mind and focused again to the task at hand. I slowly spilt the liquid and crust into the toilet, where it splashed with a sickening *slorpsh*. The sound was enough to make my throat contract, and I looked away. I was going to take a picture of the toilet with the stuff in it, but I just couldn't look at it. Even my steely stomach would've given up on that one. And furthermore, puking into a mask connected to your face is just not a good plan after eating Mexican food for lunch....really. Anyway, after flushing the demon fluid down, I saw the bowl stil had a black crust on it. Following The Mother's advice, I wiped it clean. It was a chalky residue, reminiscent of calcium carbonate precipitate in a solution....except black and smelling of deathly things. You can see the work of Satan in the picture to the right. It was so horrid that it was STILL on the bowl after wiping. I took it to the sink and poured massive amounts of lemon dawn into it and all over the reeking sink. After about 5 minutes of scrubbing both with brillo pads, the smell was pretty much gone. The black shit on the bowl was a bitch to get off, but it eventually came clean. Ahh, another day's hard work. All I gotta say is...
|
Got-DAMN, chilluns!!! That was turrrrble! Clean yo dishes, bitchezzz!!!
|
|
|
|
|
|
