Last night while out celebrating my two years alive/49th, hubby texted me to “CALL A PLUMBER.” It turns out, our fourth dishwasher- the one I’ve had for a few weeks, was leaking.

Now, since I am an unfortunately an expert in this situation, I am over it. I cannot fight the fight anymore. Frankly, I just don’t give a damn.

If the fucking rats want the fucking drain to every appliance in this shit hole I call home, then I say, “entree vous”.

*Fucking Rat Bastards.