April 28, 2005

I hate it when things go wrong with the house. Now I don’t fall over in an emotional heap if a sink leaks, but I find it to be a pain in the ass. I did not inherent any home improvement skills from my family. None. Nada. I can fake it with the best of them and I can pass when it comes to geeky things (wiring up phones, electrical, etc.) but I’m not a big fan of fixing plumbing or moving walls or anything like that.

Last night as Earl and I were getting ready for bed, I attempted to flush the toilet. The chain in the tank came off the little plunger thingee, making the handle absolutely useless because it wasn’t connected to anything. Jiggling the handle wouldn’t help even though I tried.

I sighed.

I rolled my eyes.

Then I took the cover off the toilet tank and tried to put the damn thing back together. One of the most frustrating things about this whole scenario is that this is a new house (well about 9 years old), these things aren’t suppose to happen! Plus, someone (that would be me) has been on a domestic kick this week and put those blue and white tablet things in the toilet so that it would be sparkling clean and minty fresh at all times.

The blue tablet covered the toilet guts in blue slime.

So after messing with it for about 90 seconds, I cried defeat and enlisted the help of Earl. After some struggling and cussing, we fixed it, but not before we were covered with blue slime from elbow to finger tips.

I got most of it to wash off. My fingertips are still stained green (the blue faded, I guess) and I feel like a big slob. Earl’s hands match mine, except I think he got the stuff under his fingernails because he washed his hair this morning and of course that cleans your fingernails. I tried raking some shampoo through my beard this morning for the same result but to no avail.

At least my hands smell minty fresh.

That ‘click’ you just heard is millions of people turning off American Idol for good. They’ve all said so, right on the American Idol official message boards. Audience favorite, Constantine Maroulis, was voted off this evening. Teenage girls are crying across America as I type. They’ve lost this generation’s David Cassidy. The world as they know it has ended.

Quite frankly, I don’t think Constantine was that great of a singer. But he was a good performer, and whatever he lacked in pitch he made up for it in stage presence. You can’t deny that he is much more deserving to be on the stage than that “Mound of Bad Sound”, Scott Savol. Heck, I’d welcome back Mikalah Gordon in a minute just to get rid of Scott Savol. I find him to be truly awful. His lack of pitch is most unnerving. He always looks like he’s sleeping his way through performances. When he gets criticism, I get the feeling that he’d like to be going postal and downing a few people. I picture Scott Savol is on his way down Ruben Studdard boulevard. He’ll win this god awful competition, sweat his way through a couple of numbers and then retire on the money he gets from suing everyone around him.

I told Earl I was done with the show because it’s become such a travesty. I mean, Paula Abdul was sober this week, for pity’s sake! How boring is that?

So I said “I’m done”. I probably lied.