Thursday, January 19, 2006
You call that hell, Hieronymus? Let me tell you about hell, you little Dutch nancy...
First off pretend that you have four children under five. Make them 4, 21 month old twins, and just for the sheer preposterousness of it, throw in a newborn. Make him a newborn who thinks he's a good looking vampire who needs to sleep during the day and then stay up all night. Then pretend that you are pushing 40 as hard as a Gremlin with a broken timing belt, just to take youthful vigor out of the equation. If that's not enough to get you climbing bareass onto the roof with a bottle of Thunderchicken and a surplus Enfield, pretend you have a fever of 103 degrees. Now add a headache of staggering intensity and a gastrointestinal tract that feels like you've swallowed a sack of violent eels. Oh, and you'll need some explosive diarrhea and vomiting (no links for that). Feeling the love yet?
Okay, at this point we'll want the main waste pipe to the sewer to be broken under the concrete floor of your basement. This will fill the house with the smell of effluent--much of it recently produced by you. The best part is that when the plumber comes to fix it he'll have to bring a special tool to get to it. Because he needs to excavate a 10 foot long trench, he'll run the thing solid for right around two hours and if you didn't have a concussion from the barfing, you will begin to feel the dessicated pea that is your brain rattle off the interior of your skull due to sound waves alone. That, my little wooden shoe-wearing visionary, is the icy ninth circle.
I've had a great day. You?
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