What's in Your Pipes?

I can smell the aroma of my own armpits as I type right now. I sit upon my bed, in my bedroom that is "heated" by an electric swiveling heater fan. The two windows in my room leak like a sieve--chill air from the outside world into my drab and styleless bedroom. My hot water has not worked for two days. I'm not sure exactly why, but I think it has something to do with my heat not getting under my floor well enough. But who the hell wants to heat the underside of their floor? I do have oil heating, but I have effectively sealed off my house with blankets so that it heats only my living room, kitchen and bathroom. The only pipes I have are in my kitchen and bathroom, so it stands to reason that keeping those rooms heated would serve to keep them from freezing, right? Yeah, not so much. I suppose it also has something to do with the fact that I live in North Carolina where they have never heard of insulating their pipes.

At any rate, my hot water came on about 20 minutes ago and I'm thinking about taking a shower (or a bath . . . heavenly). I am delaying the inevitable partly because I have gotten used to smelling myself. I kind of like it. I think I'm in love with my own aroma. I doubt my girlfriend . . . er, fiance would agree. I don't think I'll find out.

(Jason Lee has asserted that he has little to few morals and certainly has no right to publish anything)