Gut Rumbles

September 12, 2008


Originally published December 31, 2001

Whatta mess! Now that it's daylight, I can see why my feet were sticking to the floor when I made coffee in the dark this morning. My friend from South Carolina heaped tons of scorn and abuse upon my head when he opened the refrigerator last night and saw my BOX of wine in there. "Oh, twist-off caps are too sophisticated for you, aren't they? I know you don't own a corkscrew. So, you buy wine in a fucking BOX?"

Yes, I do. And I own a corkscrew, too.

Somehow last night, the bag inside the box developed a hole, and about three liters of White Zinfandel wine leaked out of the box, escaped from the refrigerator, and ran all over the place. It is now semi-dried to the consistency of flypaper, leaving a pinkish stain marked by about a dozen bare footprints, left by me, on my kitchen floor. This nasty accident happened AFTER I spent yesterday morning mopping, scouring and vacuuming my humble home.

Luckily, I have a Dollar-Store mop and bucket in my broom closet. Maybe I can persuade my friend from South Carolina to use them when he finally awakens from his deep slumber and goes for the coffee pot only to find himself glued to the floor in a pink quagmire of semi-dried White Zinfandel. If he doesn't want the mop, I'll throw him a corkscrew. He can take it from there.

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