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aaaaarrrrghhhh

Take a look at that clean piece of kitchen floor. It was covered in slimy, gooey, brown chicken fat just a few minutes ago. I really should have taken a picture of it but, well, I had slimy, gooey, brown chicken fat all over my shins and bare feet.

Here’s what happened. My roommate has a George Foreman-type grill. He made chicken fajitas today for the both of us – a friendly gesture to say the least. I then gave him a ride to the bus stop for his ride to Houston. Upon arriving home, I was greeted by a messy kitchen and a sink full of dishes, so I did the natural thing and started cleaning up. The grill has a little plastic drawer that catches all the grease and fat that gets cooked out of whatever it is that’s getting grilled. It was full after the fajita fest an hour earlier.

I wanted to move the grill into the cupboard so I could clean the counter top on which it sat. As I lifted the grill, the drawer fell out and spilled its contents onto my shins, feet, and kitchen floor.

I then cursed loudly.

Comments (7)

p-man:

URL: http://
don't worry about the cleaning, no biggie. it wasn't really an issue until i spilled all that crap. i take it you got to houston alright? no gang activity on the bus? yeah, i'm surprised he reads the site all, considering that he gets enough of my BS as it is...

hehehe - sucks when the roomies read the blog, eh?? ;)

russ:

URL: http://
sorry dude, i didn't have enough time to clean before i left. i had to catch my luxury ride to houston...

p-man:

URL: http://
isn't it just the worst feeling? and after all that work, to see it all splatter onto the floor... i was planning on mopping the floor anyway, but i hadn't planned on paper-toweling gobs of chicken leftovers. yech.

tarflet:

yuck. that reminds me of this time i decided to bake a cake. after the batter was flawlessly smooth and begging for someone to lick the spoon, i rest it on the counter...or what i thought was the counter...which turned out to be the edge of it instead. as i turned away, i heard that inevitable sound of it tipping and falling, along with all of that yummy batter....all over the drawers and the floor. and no cake. =(

p-man:

URL: http://
cuz, like p-man, he don't like driving three hours. and he's too cheap (frugal?) to fly.

skorloff:

why was r-man taking the bus to h-town?

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