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Never Wash Fruit.

Update: I got a Winter Jacket.

No, not the wearable kind.

Jack-jack DaKatt was pawing at something on the couch tonight.  I thought “Idiot, you’re pawing at a piece of dried cheese.  Brilliant.  Just eat it already.”

Then the flash of yellow was more than that.

Having been stung a huge number of times once when I broke open a stump with a motorcycle footpeg, I can state with great firmness that I hate, no loathe, no… I despise yellowjackets.  I tossed the cat aside and did the drinking-glass-over-a-porn-mag… uh… over-a-Time-Magazine… uh, no, porn does sound better doesn’t it?  Don’t ask me why I had a Time magazine in my house.  I don’t want to talk about it.

Anyway, I put it outside in that state, glassed in and left it there.  It has been outside in Michigan winter weather for over three hours now.

Goes to show you that paper and dead-still air are really not bad insulators at all.  Brought it back in and dumped it unceremoniously on the counter to observe it (the Time Magazine stayed outside thankyouverymuch).  After two minutes it twitched and started going for my jugular so I put an impenetrable force-field of Ziploc ™ around it’s little wasp ass.

Now, dead seriously, I’m going to figure out the most awful way I can kill the little SOB.  I may even rig up a little pyre and stake and burn it.   Thou shalt not suffer a wasp to live. No, no… if I did all that Cruel Wife might think I was crazy or something and we wouldn’t want her to think that.  Must think of something more sane.

Do wasps have toenails?

****Why You Never Wash Fruit****

Cruel Wife picked up a pile of laundry on Sunday, just sweeping up everything in the area and washed it.

It included my heavy hooded flannel shirt/jacket/thneed thing.

She assumed that if I put it in the laundry pile, I must have gone through the pockets.  And I was dumb enough to set it there when I didn’t want it washed.  “I’ll just get that a bit later,” I said.

When she went to put the wet clothes in the dryer she discovered:

  • A fountain pen
  • A few quarters
  • My blackberry
  • Two shredded Kleenex ™
  • My car keys
  • And tobacco

Yes, she washed my good el-cheapo fountain pen.

What’s that you say?  She washed my BlackBerry?  Why, yes.  Yes, she did.

Note:  She heard something clunking in there  and said “What is THAT?”  and then said “Mmm.” and went upstairs.

Turns out they don’t like that much.  It says right on the box do not put BlackBerry in the washing machine.  Wash by hand using gentle detergents.

It still works.  Nothing was lost.  The only teensy-weensy problem is that it gets hot enough to fry teensy-weensy little quail eggs on it.

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