mrtl

More About Me

4. I am a dishwasher nazi.

Yesterday I had a near conniption. The cleaners were here, and they loaded the dirty dishes, the ones I took out of the sink and put in a bucket on the counter to get them out of their way, into the dishwasher. I heard the clattering of dishes ::insert Scooby Doo "huh?":: and got downstairs just in time to turn off the dishwasher. Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster I did, because I later discovered some MAJOR issues:

1. Chick had put PLASTIC DISHES on the bottom rack. Plastic NEVER goes on the bottom rack. Why doesn't she know this?? Some "cleaning professional" she is.
2. Most egregious considering #1: Bug's new Dora plate was one of the dishes on the bottom rack. Oh the horror of such a close call! If that plate had melted, that plate that Bug has insisted on using for just about every meal since she got it from Mom Mom and Popeye a couple weeks ago, life would have been H-E-L-L.
3. She did not follow the obvious organization of anything in there. Shit was thrown in there all haphazardly. Gah! Knives mixed with forks and spoons with the spatula! And what's that glass bowl doing on the top rack? All its mates are on the bottom rack, but you were too busy putting a plastic bowl down there to notice, right? Stupid!
4. Girlfriend had used our last Electrosol tablet. Bitch! There weren't that many dishes in that bucket. Why would she start the dishwasher with so few??
5. Not saved by my quick action, but nonetheless a major insult to injury, is that the dishwasher already had dishes in it. Clean dishes. Made #4 clearer, anyway. I made the necessary corrections and let it run.

Is it just me? I can't stand it when other people fuck with my dishwasher. If someone else loads stuff in there, I avoid looking inside. Others don't know how to load it, and if I get in there before it's run, I end up offending whoever's involved by emptying it and reloading everything properly (read that: MY way). If I see the carnage after it's been run, I get highly annoyed. Better just to steer clear of it.

Needless to say, I called the office and asked them in the most polite way to leave my dishes alone from now on.

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Today on "Martha"

"Lorraine [Bracco] and I have discovered the joy of Kahlua with whipped cream."

Martha is falling back into her old stick-up-the-ass self. She's not being flirty with the male guests anymore, and rarely do we see a glimpse of her playful side these days. It's such a shame.

Something I Hate

Spray deodorant.

Having to hold my breath while using it is bad enough. Then, when I haven't managed to escape the fumes in time to take a deep, gasping breath, I get a mouthful of deodorant, which dries out my tongue.

Some Things About Me (1-3)

Lots of people have made these lists. I swore I wouldn't unless I actually had things to share, things that I felt were valuable for you to know (or that would at least amuse you enough to read the list). I doubt I'd post more than five at a time. Below are a few things that you may not know about me. At least I don't think I've shared them yet.

1. I hate plastic wrap, mainly because I have in this lifetime been unable to master the supposed "cling" factor. I don't believe that it actually clings at all, and my attempts at using it rival the skills of a Jehovah's Witness wrapping his first Christmas present.*

2. I will only eat a Big Mac if I have some sweet and sour sauce to dip it in.** It shocked me to find out that, in the 11 years, 6 months and 2 weeks that's he's known me, mister mrtl did not know this until tonight. ("You're dipping your Big Mac in sweet and sour sauce? You must be pregnant." "I've eaten them this way for years. You didn't know that?" "No. No wonder you always feel sick after eating them.")

3. I always expect to find at least a couple straggler fries in the bottom of my fast food bag. It's an expectation that I take very seriously; I believe it should be a crime for fast food restaurants to neglect to drop a few. I mean, what could be worse than finishing the fries, only to find that you really have finished the fries??

* An old friend dated a Witness, who left the church (temporarily) when they decided to live together. He used an entire roll of wrapping paper in his feeble attempt to wrap a small present for her. For those of you not familiar with this religion (as I was when I got to know this guy), they don't celebrate any holidays, including birthdays. While I'm tempted to put as #4 that I would never convert to this religion on this factor alone, I didn't feel that it would be worthy of inclusion. I mean, isn't that obvious? Besides, with the various rules that I know about JW, they'd either not let me in or banish me directly to their hell.

** It's a rarity that I go to McDonald's. If any of you need St. James Place or Baltic Avenue, let me know.