Look, my good people, I know I’m no Roade’s scholar but I like to think of myself as (at the very least) marginally intelligent.
Yet there are so many things that will continue to baffle my brain and perplex my person for perpetuity. First and foremost? Our fine feathery friends. I admit it: I’m not a humongous bird fan-- mostly because they scare me; what with their collectively dour demeanor and those beastly little beaks -- not to mention all that hideous head-cocking! Seriously, what is their story? Sure, I get the whole nesting situation. I do it myself, as a matter of fact. My family calls it annoying and over-the top, especially when I do it on my way out the door. Then again, what does my kin know from keeping a killer, cool casa? I mean, yes, heaven forbid someone should break into the house – couldn’t it at least look nice for them until they ransack it? Hmpf. Fine, fine. Perhaps I take to picking up parts, pieces and pretty much any old paraphernalia like it’s my proven purpose. Oops, just like Britney Spears, I did it again. Meh. I like things neat; is that such a crime? Come to consider it, wouldn’t it be funny if it was? I can see it now: “No spray-waxing for you, two years!” Just joshin’ but resuming the notion, the backdrop would be a humongous living room ---or is it the family room?---and by the by, aren’t they the same gosh-danged thing? Raspberry. No not the fruit kind, the exasperated sort. I’m trying to give “hmpf” and “sigh” a little breather. They do work so hard for me every week. Words girl’s really tripping over ‘em left and right today, huh? I hate it when I present proof of my provocation. Apologies. That was simply just one too many p-words, I suppose. I should have offered over an old “occupy occlusives” instead, oughtn’t I? Pfft – speaking of “P” words, hee hee! Any who (let me keep something PKish, sheesh!) -- we’re moving right along. Ditching the digression as I am down for doing, it might make me a neatness nut but I guess it’s not entirely inaccurate to point out that the phrase “straightening up a bit” could literally be my middle name. And that’d put my whole PK-ness in peril, probably. Wink, wink. Drowning in a sea of verbosity today so what the heck? I might as well toss a handy dandy “Ugh” in there, too. Frankly, now that I consider it. I’ll change my vote to argue that the it’s kitchen which is probably the king of the castle, capisce? Yes, I’m Italian so feeding others is in my DNA but I do think I can make an ethnic-free argument for another hot spot as a home’s hub. Because if there is yet another place within those all-important four walls that’s could claim the castle’s crown it’d be what I’m submitting as Exhibit B: the restroom. Clearly, its key feature (a/k/a toilet paper) is its most vital vehicle. Do you doubt it? Consider when the “Seinfeld” character Elaine found herself in a public stall -- sans some of the soft, plushy stuff. You may recall she beseeched the gal in the very next compartment to submit some but the second she said: “Sorry, I don’t have a square to spare.” Silly, selfish stranger. She can stuff her “sorries” in a sack, see? Sheesh I’m really stretching satire this (hopefully) sunny day, no? Ah, well: wishing a worry-free and happy day to you all! Kimerer is a columnist with quite a conscience for cleanliness. Please wash your hands before reaching out to shake hers via [email protected]
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