Saturday, 2 January 2016


IF IT WEREN'T FOR THESE TWO THINGS (and prayer, of course) I simply could not have survived this insufferable, rainy, cold, practically toxic week. Amen.

Yay! It's the weekend, which means I get to have a drinkie! Although, truth be told, thanks to my furnace being a jerk and assorted other excuses, I had a few nips during the week. Turns out, for those of you who might be wondering how I survived without heat for three days (and I would hope you are wondering, otherwise I'm going to assume you don't give a crap about me and are only here for the boob shots), the problem was NOT the furnace. The problem was children. 

The exhaust pipe, which vents outdoors, had been filled to the tits with gravel from the walkway between my townhome and the neighbour's. The neighbour who has lots of backyard parties with lots of little tots running around looking for stupid shit to do while their parents are getting hammered. Because a pipe does not fill ITSELF up with gravel, you guys, so either it was the brats or Pig-Face has picked up some astonishing skills while I've been ignoring her.
This is how the conversation went between the furnace repairman and I:

FR: Your exhaust pipe is filled with rocks.
ME: Is that normal?
FR: Yeah, for sure. Sometimes, if you're lucky, the rocks turn to gold. I recommend leaving them there.
ME: Okay.
FR: But seriously, that's why your furnace shut off. It's a safety feature, so you don't get carbon monoxide poisoning. So what do you want me to do?
ME: I want you to find those children and kick them until they fall down.
FR: I can't do that, ma'am! 
ME: Haha, kidding. Just find them. I'll do the kicking.
FR: You're kind of a sick bitch ...
ME: Why are you still standing there? Children; tick tick tick ...

In my mind, that's exactly how it went. In reality, the furnaceman was a sweetheart and went above and beyond the call of duty to make things right, while I sat upstairs holding Pig-Face's snout over the vents to make sure carbon monoxide wasn't still coming out of them and swilling the last of the hooch. It was almost Friday by this point, so why not? And now it's Saturday, which means I have just one day of legitimate drinking left, so goodbye. ... *lifts bottle to nose, inhales the sweet, sweet aroma of sin* You're still here? Go away. Goodbye! *monitor goes black*