Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Ever since The Ford moved into The Official Apartment, his shower's drain had been clogged.
Eventually, like most folks would, but probably much later, he got tired of showering in 3 inches of standing water every day.

So he bought this Drano foaming drain cleaner, which was on the cusp of becoming The Official Drain Cleaner of The Official Blog of The Ford, based on some previous drain-cleaning experiences. (A man as spontaneously hairy as The Ford gains plenty of experience clearing clogs in his lifetime.)

But upon an examination of his shower, it turned out there was no way to remove the drain stopper fully to allow the foamy cleanser full access to the shower's nether regions. (The shower, it should be noted in its defense, responded in a way familiar to The Ford from earlier attempts to see netherregions without the proper warning.)

But The Ford is an enterprising fellow, what with all the episodes of MacGyver consumed in a childhood of television.

So he tried to cut a plastic cup to use it as an improvised funnel.

Of course, his scissors, prehaps sensing the futility of the whole effort, proved difficult to find, forcing The Ford to resort to The Official Scissors of The Official Swiss Army Knife of The Official Blog of The Ford.

And cut they did. Soon a funnel was forged from the ashes of a former drinking cup. The Ford is truly the master of his domain.

Really, everything was going well until he poured the drain cleaner into the funnel, and it started foaming even before it had gotten through the opening, which was much smaller than planned, thanks to the poor angle of attack on the drain.

(It's like they designed the damn thing with an eye toward preventing unapproved assaults on the drain with dangerous chemicals. But The Ford digresses.)

The Quasi-Official cleanser is foaming. Foaming all over The Official Hands of The Ford, The Official Bathtub, well, The Official Everything.

It's at this point that The Ford remembers the two warnings on the bottle: "Use the entire bottle" and "Harmful upon contact with skin."

What to do? The entire bottle of cleanser is obviously going to take a while to work through the funnel, time that The Ford was sure would be spent horribly scarring his hands to the point he'd be a candidate for super-villainy in Gotham City.

What to do? The clock's ticking. The skin's burning.

In the end, The Ford did the only thing he could do. He ran. At least, figuratively.

He ended up just pouring the rest of the bottle into the bathtub, around the drain area -- hoping it would eventually work its way down the drain -- and retreating to wash The Official Hands.


And so, as he waits for The Non-Official Cleanser to work down the pipes, as well as for the skin to begin falling off his bones, he's left to regale you, dear reader, with some interesting shit.

Who says The Ford never suffered for his art?

From the L.A. Times: Women excited about chances to wear feminine clothing with team logos. Teams excited about chances to make money off of other 50% of American population. L.A. Times excited about chances to show photo gallery of women trying on clothing. Everybody wins.

From a random Kentucky television station's site: Woman who appeared in a single porn movie was fired from her job as a teacher. Reminds The Ford of a joke:
"Man walks into a bar in a small town, sits down at the counter, and everyone at the counter moves away from him.
The man groans, and turns to face the crowd.
'A man bakes a cake, and no one calls him a baker?'
'A man catches a fish, and no one calls him a fisherman.'
'But fuck one sheep...' "

From the world of geeks (as opposed to the rest of the Internet): You probably already knew there was going to be a "live-action" Transformers movie. (The quotes are The Ford's, since he's skeptical of the live-action nature of anything involving giant robots transforming into cars, guns and tape decks.) You might have known it'll hew vaguely closely to the original cartoon version, complete with Spike Witwicky, a plucky young human replete with even pluckier perm and hard-hat. You maybe even knew it's going to be directed by Michael Bay. The world will be imperiled. Oddly compelling pop/rock songs will blare. Shit will blow up. We'll all live another day. But did you know there'll be a love interest for good ol' Spike? No. Behold the hotness of Megan Fox. Because when The Ford goes to see a movie about giant robots, he wants a human love interest. (And, yes, The Ford will see it. He knows this already.) Really, all The Ford knows is that they better not kill off Optimus Prime again. That had him near tears as a kid. He doesn't know if he could take it again.

From a random celebrity blog: Jessica Simpson's a redhead? With weird-looking breasts? The Ford says: Win some, lose some.


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