All posts tagged: take out

Are you heading to the basement?

Are you heading to the basement? The Spouse asked me. I glared at him, turned a page in the LL Bean winter coats catalog. I didn’t want to head to the basement. The basement is where the fitness gear is kept. The stationary bike. The weights. The Bowflex that came with the house. The basement is a place of boredom and discomfort. I dislike it. On the other hand, I do like reasonable blood pressure and the ability to be agile as my person betrays me with age. So, as a household the Spouse , the dogs, and I frequent the basement. The people use the wretched gear. The dogs sniff the cat box and chew things. Joe’s Deli has new specials up today, the Spouse continued on in an apparent non sequitur. It was a sneaky tactic. In the secret language of our long association he was suggesting two things: 1) Get take-out – and house rules state that if you SAY take-out, we GET take-out. Period. He didn’t quite say it though. 2) …

Who cleans up the ick?

Maybe it is because I am from New Jersey. Maybe it’s because I read too many books of questionable topics.  But when I was standing in the sandwich shop on Niagara Falls Boulevard and saw the Eraser (www.erase-it.org) business card, I thought, Oh yeah, I need to put that card in my wallet. Because you just never really know. Discreet and professional biohazard remediation is EXACTLY what a person wants to have on speed dial. When you need it, you need it.. As I stood at the long counter of the sandwich shop waiting for my Philly cheesesteak (Buffalo interpretation) hoagy (Buffalo spelling. Inexplicable.), I thought of many reasons to call the Eraser: Vampire extermination. Ash and anciently rotting bio-ooze are left behind every time. Disgusting. Borg attack. Watch StarTrek Voyager on Netflix for a while. They just look smelly. Really, really smelly. Ghoul nesting. Ghouls drool. They prefer carrion. Even if you don’t mind them around, someone’s got to clean up sometimes. They’ll rot a house out otherwise. October 22nd Incidents. Ask the WideEyedDad …