Wake Up Call

I am spring cleaning the Treehouse. I realized this was a priority when my special man friend opened my closet door, and I reacted by squealing "Nooo!" while crumpling to the ground. I also kicked my feet a few times and put my hands over my eyes.

Anyway, I have been cleaning stains on the carpet, shedding unwanted knick knacks, and buffing the kitchen counter till it shined enough to reflect the part of the apartment I haven't cleaned yet.

I also decided that it's Draino time in the bathtub. I read the directions, avoided splashing it on my face (like The Mighty G did once...ugh, shiver). After 30 minutes of eagerly awaiting the zero hour of Unclogged Drains, I turned on the water. And it didn't drain. It was still clogged. In fact, it seemed worse than it did before I did the Draino. "How is this possible?" I wondered to myself while scratching my head and then checking out my backside in the mirror for pertness.

I still can't figure it out. But I guess that means that there is a lot of Hellcat's mane down there, which is disgusting and completely inappropriate to mention in a public forum. What do men do who are seventeen times furrier than me? Do they stand in two feet of water, lamenting their own biological curses? Or do they Draino every other week?

I am confused and hurting. My head is working double time on this one, and I find it hard to eat or conduct business. I'm going into hiding until I can figure it out.

splash. g