Nanook of the North is in my backyard. Either that or a
drunken sailor dressed like an Eskimo. That's my babe...my David. A gentle lamb
gone wild on steroids. We had a warm and satisfying breakfast. The big plans of
playing board games or drawing up more house plans went down the sh...ter
- literally.
"What's that smell? Did Nuke fart again?" I said. Our
search, which took 30 seconds due to living in a small metal container, made
our eyes pop out. "Holy..." you know what. The investigation led
David outside. Inspector David comes back with a full report.
David (hands on hips) - "It's frozen solid."
Perplexity all over my face.
Diane (clueless eyes) - "huh?"
David (clearly not happy) - "The poop tank is frozen
solid."
This reminds me of the word I heard from the Knapp
family at one of our Bored meetings "Poopsicle". A similar mess they
had to deal with in Alaska. How does one deal with Poopsicle? It's not like we
live in a shack in the Tundra. This is Nashville for goodness sake. We don't
have the how do you fix a frozen poop tank for dummies' book. David is
putting a heater near the source. It's a shitty situation.
Again, I say thank you geezus for bloody Mary's.
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