Washing The Stank Off.

To be honest, I don't know how to take care of myself. I mean I know how to take a shower and wipe my own ass but there are basic things that most normal people know how to do that I just guess at. For example, no one ever taught me how to shave. Now this isn't an "I Hate My Dad" moment. I don't lie awake in my bed thinking, "The least that little Chinese dude could have done for me is showed me how to shave this neck-stache thing I got going on." No I'm proud to say that he had more important things to do and I'm happy he thought I could figure out how to shave by myself. I think I got it. But when it comes to laundry I don't think I have as much insight. I put my clothes in, pour some soap on them, and hit the "Go" button. (There is no "Go" button.) And most times, everything comes out alright. I mean sometimes the colors fade or things get permanently creased, but for the most part, everything smells a bit better and that's what matters most. So if there is a small stain that isn't taken care of by simple detergent then I'm lost. My mother had a way of getting out any stain in the world. Polish Sausage juice, Chorizo grease, or donut glaze (obviously the only stains in the world) would always be taken care of by her. For me, it's different. I just throw the shit out because I don't have a clue.

This is my dilemma. A female object at work yesterday thought it would be funny to rub her crotch on my backside while I was standing at the Check Out. Of course I didn't know what was going on because it's never happened to me before, but I can't say I hated it. (I loved it.) When I turned around she was laughing and I laughed too.

I didn't have a brown crayon to color her in. Sorry.

I then realized that I was wearing my nice jeans and that I was never going to be able to get the Stank out of them. I mean any other pair of pants fine, just throw them shits in the laundry machine, pour some soap, and hit the "Go" button. But these jeans aren't produced anymore. And they're selvedge. Which means you don't wash them. And I can't afford to have them dry cleaned. The way I usually kill the smell is by waiting until I get rashes on my legs, then I throw them into the freezer to kill the bacteria. I can't throw jeans that have Puerto Rican Stank on them in the freezer where my food (and Josh's) is. The food that I put into my mouth and chew and swallow and digest that's then turned into Energy that keeps this misery going. Could you imagine if I was fueled up on PR Stank? What kind of person would I be? I'm already pissed off and filled with bullshit. Add a little of that Stank and who the hell knows what would happen.

So I looked at the tag when I got home for cleaning instructions. Nowhere does it say how to get the Stank out of your jeans. I mean I'm assuming you'd have to heat water far past the boiling point and still add all sorts of rare minerals to even begin to combat the Stank-ness. I don't have that option. We live in a shitty apartment in Brooklyn, our water doesn't get that hot. So I'm totally screwed. Jeans need to start putting these warnings on their tags. (I always love their little iron icon.)

This symbol would be a good warning. "Do not get Stank on this denim" should be one of the instructions.

So these jeans are as good as done. I'm about to throw them in the garbage. I guess it's not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. They're just jeans. My real worry is that this girl rubbed her crotch on my backside. Now I've come to understand that brown people are a lot more fertile than white people (see "Mexicans") so now I worry that she might be pregnant. I mean we were in public so of course we both had clothes on. But I'm just not sure about how strong Stank is. Does it absorb into your skin like this creepy shit?

(Way to fuck up the soap situation Josh.)

Or is it more like this?

Frightened Ching Chongs. I can relate.

Beware Of Stank.