So I Decided To Clean The Car…
La la la I think I’ll give the ol’ 2006 EarthDestroyer a once-over and straighten things up.
So I sorta bounce outta the house thinking I’ll do this and then get on to whatever Male Limbic Brain has catalogued as the Next Very Important Thing Which Must Be Done (I have no idea what it was because these news briefs come very quickly and never with any warning).
I open up the back of the vehicle and right away see all that up there. French fries, diaper pins, and, I think, beads. Eternally memorialized in, I think, syrup.
Which of course means that the tripwire in my brain triggered a chain reaction that went from La la la and straight into [foul language].
Next thing I know I have a wire brush and the shop vac. And hot water and rags. Boiling hot water. Like this was Gone With The Wind and I was about to deliver a baby. But it wasn’t Gone With The Wind, and there was no baby, but baby—I was going to get this vehicle show-room clean if it killed me.
Which it nearly did when the shop vac sucked up into the hose the wire brush I was using to (I love this) get all the little things no vacuum in the world actually has enough suction power to get. Which is why I use a wire brush. It’s brilliant. You need to try it. Just make sure that you keep a firm grip on the brush so tha—well. Actually, what happened next probably has more to do with the fact that my shop vac doubles as a DC-10 engine.
And, by the way, if the other day you were just standing there reading a book, or holding a cup of coffee, or maybe chiseling a statue out of two and a half tons of marble? And then suddenly it got sucked away in one brain-shattering blustery moment? Yeah. That was my shop vac and you’ll never see your stuff again. That’s how strong this (pun coming here, ha ha) sucker is.
I was really mad about that wire brush because it was just the right size and allowed me to get into all the nooks and crannies you typically just given up thinking you’ll see clean ever again.
So I said something colorful. And loud. Colorful and loud. But it was okay because even though there were kids crawling all over the place, none of them could hear the Colorful and Loud thing I said to describe my mood.
I’m in the back with one of the seats folded down, and buried deep, and getting right on after something that THOUGHT it’d live there forever, and my legs are sticking halfway out of the 2006 EarthDestroyer SUV, and the big giant black snake DC-10 engine fuel line suction hose is flailing around wildly like I’m wrestling a boa constrictor, and then the wire brush is gone. GONE.
So flip over on my back (because I was on my stomach) (seems like unnecessary information, but wait for it)…and see this.
That’s the ceiling.
Is it just me, or does anyone else hear that world-famous screeching scary violin sound from the shower scene in Psycho?
Seriously, those pictures almost made me throw up
You and me, both, honey. You and me both.