*Warning: what you are about to read contains graphic and disgusting descriptions of human waste. You are hereby warned. Oh, and there is also profanity.*
Remember how my brother Chip is in town for a week for spring break? Remember how I’ve been trying to spend lots of time with him because I don’t get to see him often? Well, I just remembered how Chip isn’t just my brother, he’s also a gross young male adult.
It’s been raining unbelievably hard in San Francisco for the last few days. Storm upon storm upon storm. Crazy. Finally, the wet and rain did a little more than just make me miserable. Chip told me that the rain caused a flood in my parent’s garage at their house in the Sunset. A flood of sewage and dirty water. And my dad left for work this morning and told him to “take care of it.”
This was our conversation over gChat this afternoon:
Chip: “This is f*ing disgusting. There’s a giant shit pond in the garage.”
“Wow. That is awful. How do you fix it?”
Chip: “I dunno. Need to call some sort of plumber person.”
“Is the shitpond touching anything? Does it smell gross?”
Chip: “It reeks worse than being trapped in your cats‘ shitbox. And it’s touching your toys.”
“Yuck! I don’t have any toys down there.”
Chip: “It’s pretty gross. I hope it goes back down the drain. I cleaned what I could, but the drain under the car is the one with the giant pond. Dunno how to clean that one…”
“Is it touching the old couch?”
Chip: “It’s touching random boxes on the right side by the garage opener. Slowly engulfing cardboard casualties with its savage stench.”
“Oh. My. God. I am going to barf.”
Chip: “Actually it doesn’t smell that bad. Doesn’t smell exactly like shit, but it does smell like old, rusty pipes with mildly wet defecated pieces. A suitable habitat of a rat. I didn’t want to confirm what I was picking up was actually shit. Especially not with my nose.”
Such a precious brother. There is one thing he can always do though, besides gross me out, and that is make me laugh like a hyena.
P.S. Yes, that is almost a word-for-word transcription of our conversation.