Fuck a bunch of this plumbing shit.

tub soup
So a few months ago I bought a house.

kitchen fun
It comes with a garbage disposal. I've never lived in a house with a garbage disposal in my life. I don't even entirely understand the concept behind these devices (though I admire their destructive powers). Where I come from, you never throw away food. Even if it's vegan.

party 080
This here lady is The Boss.

Last Monday we were cleaning out the fridge and I say to The Boss, "Hey, sweet mama, do you want to save this big pot of coffee-horseradish chutney from last week?"

"No," she said. "Dump it down the garbage disposal."

So I did. And an hour or two later, a bunch of ruckus and hollering woke me up from my nap. I climbed out of the pile of old leaves where they make me sleep and ran inside the house, and Tessa Fresh was hysterical.

this sums up my entire life
That's Tessa Fresh there on the right, singing one of her favorite Iron Maiden songs while The Boss fits her for a new lice helmet.

"Oh my god! There are onions coming out of the bathtub!"

That's not an Iron Maiden song. That's what Tessa Fresh was screaming the day I stuffed all the junk down the garbage disposal. Turns out it was because there were onions coming out of the bathtub.

At first, Tessa Fresh and The Boss were concerned the bathtub onions were of supernatural origin, but my familiarity with many varieties of totally sweet and awesome Satanic death metal albums quickly helped me rule out the occult. After settling them down with a few minutes of slapping and Xanax, I explained to the girls the onions likely appeared due to more prosaic reasons, specifically the larger than usual gob of foodstuffs I had previously been ordered to mash down the sink.

"We need to call a plumber," The Boss said.

"Aw hell no we don't," I replied. "I ain't scared of no damn bathtub onions. I'm a-just goin' to nip up to Home Depot and get a jug of Drano."

tub soup
Five days later, The Boss and I had replayed that dialogue about 14 times, and the bathtub looked like this.

toxicer than usual
All that Drano and Liquid Plumr and Tabasco sauce I had poured into the pipes was producing dangerous fumes, making anyone who wandered down our hallway feel dizzy and lightheaded. It almost wasn't worth it, having your eyes tear up and sting, just to get a whiff or two of that sweet brain juice.

In addition to the fumes, a small dog had become concerned.

apparently hilarious
Not wanting to give in and admit I was wrong spend the money and call a plumber, I announced no bathtub onions or toxic soup were going to lick ol' Pat Hughes, and suited up in my best biohazard gear to sort this business out.

tessa is a butthole
Everyone seemed to find this hilarious.

tessa is a butthole 2
...Everything about it. My outfit and general appearance, the coughing and burning, me bailing out poison broth into a toilet bowl, the very notion I was competent enough to fix or repair anything, the very thought I was intelligent or capable of doing anything right ever — all hilarious.

"We need to call a plumber," The Boss said.

tub salad
Though my own family had no faith in my abilities, I continued to slosh that shit around, using a colander to strain out any solid matter as I worked. soon I had accumulated a nice little ceviche, with the various onion skins and fibrous bits ralphed up out of the drain nicely "cooked" in a tasty marinade of lye, sulphuric acid and old bathwater. Snacking on it helped my bolster my resolve, as well as make me see dancing strobe-light unicorns made of rainbows and pie.

giuseppe and the tub weiner
After the unicorns faded and I had reduced the muck to reasonably life-threatening levels, I was poised to deploy my secret weapon, and last hope — the Tub Weiner.

"We need to call a plumber," The Boss said.

The Tub Weiner connects to an ordinary garden hose, employing the water pressure naturally found there to shoot out a small elf who rides directly to the clog on a mystical ray and the elf has a shovel and a pick made of stardust and rubies and he tries tries tries his very best to tunnel through the problem before his little heart inevitably gives out at the stroke of midnight and he dies from all the effort and dissolves into a sparkly mist that God vacuums up to heaven.

"Wait, you fixed it? We don't need to call a plumber?" The Boss said. "I'm having trouble believing it."

"I know you are, baby, but you should never count out me and my Tub Weiner."

face of victory
Here I am, basking in my victory.

"I never thought when I told you to dump that food in the disposal that you'd put it all there at once," The Boss said.

A little dog basks in my victory as well.