Imagine, if you will, the state of my sink when my beloved garbage disposal died.
Regurgitations of soggy fruit loops and bean with bacon soup and a nasty ring around the sink.
(not pictured. I do have some self respect).
My Daddy-o checked it out and gave me the bad news that he thought the bearings were shot.
This is a major disaster-catastrophe. I hold my disposal close to my heart.
So, when Jeff was on his way out the door to the hardware store for a new one, I shouted,
"Get the industrial-sized one! THE INDUSTRIAL ONE!"
And so he did.
Ho, man, I love this thing. I would kiss it if I didn't have to crane my neck. And if that weren't really, really odd.
It's so quiet I forgot to turn it off once.
And most importantly, it's tough.
What?? It's diet.
And now I can dump to my heart's content.
That didn't sound right.