Somehow, during the week-long heatwave, I managed to go 5 (possibly) whole days without showering. It's possible that I showered and simply forgot about it but one Sunday I had to stop and think about the last time I disrobed and actually set foot into a shower.
I couldn't quite recall, which as a little troubling, to say the least.
The bus broke down on the way to work/on the day of one of my top-five worst hangovers ever, so I had more than enough time to ponder my hygienic inadequacies.
On the subject of hygienic inadequacies, I popped by The Pansy's place to hang before she heads off to New York for a week and almost burned down her apartment making burritos. You see, she got a new stove today and apparently the instruction manuals and what not are taped inside (who knew?) so when I cranked up the heat to 400F, I started a small fire.
According to The Pansy, this is my fault because I didn't check to see if there was anything in there before turning it on. MY question to her was, who stores shit in their oven (other than Carrie Bradshaw). As usual we couldn't agree on who was in the wrong so we called a truce and ate burritos on her couch while she gave me further details of her Saturday night adventures and watched CSI/Law & Order.