My wife and her two sisters were out in my garage yammering away while I was working on the transmission for my Sprite.
I had been enjoying the peace and quiet because they had all gone to the movies earlier so I was just in my own little world and enjoying the shit out of it too.
I didn't even have the squawk box on.
Pretty soon here they come. Sounded like someone moved a fucking chicken tractor into the joint.
Yack yack yack yack.
We don't smoke in the house so we have a little kiddy table out there and a couple ashtrays.
Jeeze, pretty soon I am kinda gritting my teeth.
While I am wrenching on this little gearbox, I reach over and grabbed a can of Carb Cleaner to do some spot cleaning of some parts.
Let me tell ya, that shit is powerful stuff, especially in an enclosed space.
Shit doesn't bother me because I am used to it to the point I almost like the smell.
It's a guy thing I am certain.
Anyways, pretty soon I hear one of 'em pipe up with something along then lines of "What is that smell, are those fumes?"
I turned around and growled at her, Whattaya fucking think? Yer in my Goddamn garage.
If ya don't like it go outside and smoke.
Oh the trauma. It's too cold, bitch bitch bitch.
So of course I lay it on with the fucking carb cleaner now.
Amazingly enough, it didn't take very long and they all suddenly decided they needed to be somewhere else , pronto.
Perfect.
I recommend this stuff, it works real good for cleaning grease and varnish on parts and as an added bonus it has a powerful stink to it.
It's like bug spray for people too.
Cross posted at The Vulgar Curmudgeon, my other, other blog.
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