It all started Thursday night. I chanced upon one of my kitchen windows and touched the folds of my white wooden blinds with a wet hand to peer into my yard. Much to my chagrin, when I removed said wet hand — I bore witness to a terrible spectacle — dirty blinds and a mud print left from my fingers. I then took a step back and truly looked at all 4 windows and came to terms with the fact they were all dirty, in spite of the cleaning services hired to attend to these ordeals at House Fly.
For the next 7 hours, I toiled away with the toxic chemicals, otherwise known to you as 409. As I sprayed and sprayed and then sprayed again, I could feel my lungs being affected, my throat was completely hoarse and my fingers raw from the exposure. The next morning I was in full blown allergy mode — dying throughout my house. Nothing could stop me from sneezing and feeling dreadful. By noon, a good friend of mine came over with his chainsaw — because we had agreed to remove my cedar playset in the yard — because it was old and dilapidated. Before we did that, however, we fixed one of the sump pumps in my basement — because, apparently, I have a river flowing under my house. After toiling with the rusted still rancid water, we went outside, armed with a chainsaw and beers.
Because we’re true men, we didn’t need face masks and as we sawed away — millions of particles of cedar dust spilled into my face and into my lungs. Whenever it got too bad, I washed it down with a Corona.
After 5 hours, we completed the dismantling of the playset and then turned our attention to whiskey and cigars. The gentleman at the cigar shop recommended a peppery pardon, 1926, retailing at $24 per — saying “these are all the rage here”. To that I replied, “who the fuck is buying $24 cigars from you anyway?”
At any rate, we ate heartily and I kept popping aspirin and Claritin in between sips of Redbreast and after dinner we smoked the cigars and they were terrible — like smoking a fucking bottle of pepper. It got cold real quick and I felt the sickness washing over me — so we retired early at about 3am.
Presently, I am shaking with fever and on the verge of certain death, and even though I rinsed my mouth out 10 times and brushed my teeth 5, I can still taste the peppery cigar and I’m too infirmed to get up and eat — so I rest here patiently awaiting death.
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