That fucker ate fried fucking eggs EVERY DAMN MORNING for breakfast and sometimes for lunch, and his rum-running old ass would put the dishes in the sink and only rinse the front of the damn plates in a half-assed kind of effort, so when the old fuck stacked the plates, the cocksucking egg smears would dry and the motherfucking plates would stick together. It took a bitch FOR-FUCKING-EVER to get all that motherfucking shit off the damn plates. And Uncle Ed was a rich old bastard, but he only paid my poor skinny ass about five bucks an hour. Cheap old motherfucking prick.
I would stand in the kitchen doorway in semi-bemused silence as Ed's dachshund, Fritzie, would piss on the inside of his doorway and all over his wall. I would have told Ed, but I was PISSED ABOUT THE EGGS.