Mr. Sensitive

May 6, 2010

Battle Of Death Ice – What Really Happened

Filed under: Basement War,Comic Books — lbej @ 17:42

Courtesy of Jon Bogdanove and Marcus.

Battle Of Death Ice – The Unbeatable Combo

Filed under: Basement War — lbej @ 14:30

Well that’s over.  I misunderstood the nature of the Death Ice.  And then I misunderstood the nature of the material on the inside of the freezer, which I thought might be steel and definitely was not.  I suspect I’m in for something of a dressing-down this evening.

The Death Ice wasn’t ice, as it turns out.  It was a wholly new substance, made of the souls of the damned unless I’m terribly mistaken.  I now believe that I created a new Circle of Hell in my chest freezer, presumably for meat-eaters.  Let’s just call it Deathice then; one word.  It didn’t melt, it didn’t flow, it didn’t chip or break.  I believe it was made of some kind of virulent plague-putty that hadn’t frozen so much as it had gotten bored.  When I went out to make the third drive against it, black flies were swarming inside.  I have never seen anything like them.  It was as though a newly-paved road had risen up and heaved itself through the air in chunks–the flies were black as tar and just as slow.  They paid no attention to me whatsoever, and when I hosed off the Deathice they drowned with that same inattention.

Between the tar-flies and the hell-gelatin I was becoming concerned that I had opened a dimensional portal of some kind.  In retrospect, I should have stopped at that point.  But I decided that it was my portal and I was going to close it.

Katie should stop reading now.

I brought out the gasoline I had obtained to incinerate the meat bits in a quick, contained, controlled burn after they were extracted.  Only they weren’t going to be extracted, at least not by melting in the sun.  Perhaps, I thought, if I poured just a little bit of the gasoline into the freezer and lit it, it would burn up quickly and complete the work of melting the ice (I didn’t realize that it wasn’t melting because it wasn’t ice, not because it wasn’t hot).  So I spilled just a little ‘line into the chest and tossed in a match.

Nothing happened.  But the troops were in the field, and there was no going back.

Stop reading, Katie, I mean it.

I dumped the gasoline into the chest.  And then I soaked a rag in gasoline and tossed it in as well.  Then I threw in a match.

There was a lot of fire.  After less than ten seconds it was clear I had overestimated the fortitude of the freezer itself.  The inferno was clearly going to consume it.  Then I had a moment of terror as I realized I didn’t know how much freon was in the freezer and whether or not it was combustible.  It sounds combustible, doesn’t it?  Thinking about it now I believe freon is a noble gas and is probably not flammable, but I hadn’t researched it, and that was enough to induce panic in that moment.  I grabbed the fire extinguisher I’d brought out with me and unloaded…or I would have, if it hadn’t been unloaded already.  In an example of foresight rare for this afternoon I had purchased a backup fire extinguisher–class B, thankfully–and I ran upstairs to get it.  By that point I was nearly 30 seconds post-combustion and the freezer was making unfortunate noises, snaps and crackles and pops that one prefers to have induced by milk rather than flame.  I doused it with the retardant spray.  Again.  Again.  Again.  Then I shot the ground because it looked suspicious.  It was not my finest hour.

The fire is out, the battle was over, and the freezer is ruined.  I’m unhurt except for being assaulted by the bricks earlier and the cancer I probably have now.  I’m not sure who won: it wasn’t me, it wasn’t the freezer, it wasn’t the Deathice, and it definitely wasn’t the flies.

Battle Of Death Ice – Second Attack Thwarted

Filed under: Basement War — lbej @ 11:44

I’m starting to feel as though it’s Spring 1918 and I’m the Ludendorff.  I don’t want to be the Ludendorff, I want to be the Foch.

Battle Of Death Ice – Outflanked

Filed under: Basement War,Girls — lbej @ 11:18

Thought I would have a quick victory while waiting for the sun to do its work by scrubbing down the front steps with some brick cleaning solution.  I did not dilute it enough and I did not have a quick victory, but I have got even pinker hands now than usual.  Gloves, that was it.  Gloves was what I was forgetting.  Also shoes.

Momentum severely blunted.  Worse still, I forgot about the Reagan/Brittan throwing of two dozen or so dolls off the porch into the backyard yesterday.  I told Reagan she had to pick them up if she was going to do that.  She agreed.  She burst into tears when reminded and I told her she could wait a few minutes.  She waited and I forgot.  Now I’ve got to pick them all up before the grand Death Ice offensive gets underway or my left flank will be imperiled.

Seems I got a bit of blood on the keyboard just now.  I suppose my hands are pinker than I thought.

Battle Of Death Ice – First Strike Repelled

Filed under: Basement War — lbej @ 09:44

Freezer of Death Ice taken out onto the patio and turned on its side to begin thawing at 6:30 a.m. this morning.  Materials necessary for the final disposition of its contents acquired, and first attack with the hose made at 9:15.  No substantive progress made; all death still fixed firmly in place at the base of the chest.  The first rays of the sun are striking it now.  Let all local noses beware: this is going to get much worse before it gets better.

Basement Wars – Kiss From A Rose

Filed under: Basement War,Music — lbej @ 03:33
Tags: ,

Woke up at 3 a.m. with that in my head.  This is certainly a portent because I have a very portentous head.  Today is to be the final day of the Basement Wars, I can feel it.  I am going to conquer the basement freezer and I have a great deal of planning to do this morning if it’s going to go off smoothly.  I cannot do what must be done before daylight, but by nightfall, I swear it will be did.

May 2, 2010

Carnivority Under Duress

Filed under: Basement War — lbej @ 15:09

I think my New York kinsmen are a bit bonkers about the shunning of animal products, but I have got a vomit moment coming up this week.  You see, there is a chest freezer in the basement that I’ve got to get sorted out as part of my reclamation initiative.  We’ve used it in the past to store meat so that we could take advantage of grocery store sales without overloading our puny upstairs refrigerator/freezer.  I say in the past because the electrical circuit in the basement is somewhat temperamental, in that if it gets a little foggy outside the ground fault gets tripped and there you have it.  Now, if you trip a ground fault on a circuit that affects something you use regularly, you notice and you reset it, no problem.  But if you only go down into the basement every few weeks or so, and your refrigerator full of meat happens not to be cooling for that entire time, and you make the mistake of opening said refrigerator…the smell is such that you need dissociative identity disorder to get through it.  You need an entirely separate person in your head to remember the smell, because you just can’t integrate the experience.

So I refroze the putrid contents of the freezer, and I left it.  And then it happened again, and I froze it again.  Now I’m at three personalities and it’s clear that a more comprehensive solution is needed.  This past Friday, right before the trash was collected for the week, I went at it with a screwdriver and a crowbar, and I managed to get probably 75% of it out to the trash just in time for it to be taken out of my life permanently.  Thing is, what’s left is what I couldn’t pry out of the freezer, the most decayed and revoltingly adhesive bits of death.  I dumped soapy water into it to melt some of the ice.  I realize now that this was not smart, and I’m blaming it on one of the other personalities.  In any event, I’ve got the Polar Ice Cap of Death in my basement and I’ve got to melt it.  Step One is to burn my nose off my face.  I’m not sure what Step Two is.  But the next trash collection is Friday, so it’s going down then.

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