Yes, I had a great time during my five days in L.A. Better than great. Better than GrrrrrEAT!, but I can't think of any words for better, because the majority of my brain is asleep.

I got approximately 2 and 1/2 hours of sleep last night. Shawn and I unlocked the apartment door at about 1:30 a.m., following a 1 and a 1/2 hour drive to the Keys from the Ft. Lauderdale airport. We were jetlagged. The cat missed us. We were ready to collapse into bed.

We both dumped our suitcases in the living room, looked around to make sure we hadn't been robbed, and washed our faces. Before bed, though, I decided to stagger into the kitchen and survey the contents of the refrigerator. I wasn't even particularly hungry, but there's something comforting about... oh, never mind. You all do it, too.

When I opened the door, to my horror, the light didn't go on.

Jamie's Brain: "Please let it have gone out today. Five minutes ago. Even an hour ago would be okay. When I touch the bottle of juice, it will still be cold. Please be cold."

It was as warm as piss.

Even though it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, I checked out the freezer.

Between the pieces of rotten chicken, and the melted box of popsicles, it looked and smelled like a murder scene. A boneless, skinless murder scene.

"Shawn!"

The stench filled the house so fast, I couldn't believe it. The only piece of good luck was that today is garbage day, so everything we threw out of the fridge and freezer could go directly out to the end of the driveway.

But the smell. Oh god, that smell.

While I was holding my breath and frantically carrying the stank ass bags outside, I was half-afraid the neighbors would be awakened by the stench, stick their heads out the window, and yell at me for stinking up the 'hood.

Of course, at 2 a.m. in the Keys, the only thing open is a gas station. We went there and purchased:

1 can of Strawberries N' Cream room freshener (unfortunately, the only kind they had)
1 box of baking soda (already had one at home)
1 wildberries car freshener (should have gotten 3)

Me (brandishing the air freshener can): "Okay, Shawn. When we get to the door, I'll cover you, but don't choke on the Strawberries N' Cream, or you'll die. I'm creating a force field of room freshener here. Stay close, but give yourself some room away from the cloud."

Shawn (brandishing the baking soda and a pack of matches): "Roger."

We attacked. I sprayed half the can, and lit every candle I could find. It's a miracle that I didn't set myself on fire, now that I think about it. I rigged the car smelly hangy thing so it dangled in front of the air conditioner in my room, where we would sequester ourselves to sleep. I turned up all the ACs to full blast, and opened every window that would. Shawn took care of the baking-powder-in-the-fridge part of things, god love 'er.

When we were done, she looked around the living room and tentatively sniffed.

Shawn: "I have a horrible headache, but it doesn't smell as bad."
Me: "Yeah, whatever. Now it just smells like Strawberries N' Cream N' ASS."
Shawn: "Go to bed, crabby."

There are no words to describe that wretched reek.

If the Harlem Globetrotters wore the same jock for 9 games straight, stuffed them in a locker with a dead cat, and opened the gym locker after a year, it wouldn't have smelled that bad.

If you cracked a dozen eggs over roadkill on a hot summer day, it wouldn't have smelled that bad.

If you shoved a block of cheese up a hairy man's ass and lit it on fire, it wouldn't have smelled that bad.

If Lucifer rose from the bowls of hell, alighted upon our living room floor, popped a squat, and took an evil dump, it wouldn't have smelled that bad.

If a forest full of inside-out skunks had an orgy, it wouldn't have smelled that bad.

I didn't get to sleep until close to 3:30 a.m., only to wake up at 6 a.m. You know, I haven't been here for days. Had to be in early. To face a pile of work and two separate talk show crises. Ugh.

Oh, and yawn.

Tomorrow - Shawn And Jamie: Angels In Los Angeles.