Tuesday, March 31, 2015
I get my best ideas while changing the kitty litter, like solving world hunger and reinventing the square wheel. I seem to go off into some kind of scoop 'n poop la-la-land. One side of my brain is busy being Albert Einstein, the other half is, well, gawd knows what it is doing. Obviously not thinking, that's for sure.
I bought these cheap-ass garbage bags for kitty poop purposes and the first time I went to use them, I realized I wouldn't be able to get one open without wet fingers. You know how plastic bags glom together? You need mad skills to get some of them open, either that or some spit on your fingers.
Usually I lick my fingers in order to open said bags. But at that moment they were covered in kitty litter germs. Which are, like, fatal, right? I mean, who wants to get kitty poop in their mouth? I sat there staring at the bag, trying to figure out a way to open it without licking my crap encrusted fingers. Finally I just said, "feck it," maybe if I lick 'em real quick the germs won't stick. Like the three second food on the floor rule.
"Gah," I said, making quick work of the licking.
It wasn't until I was done spitting in the sink and rinsing my mouth out with gagloads of salt water and Listerine that Albert Einstein finally took over the D-oh part of my brain: I didn't have to lick my finger - all I had to do was SPIT on it.