Diesel fuel is one of those things I don't like getting on my hands. It occasionally happens, such as when a fuel filter clogs on some equipment, but it's worse two times during the day: first thing in the morning, or last thing in the evening.
I know you're asking yourself: "Why?". It stinks, and the odor lasts for a long time. If spilled on clothes, the smell permeates everything else washed and it doesn't leave, until a after more than one washing.
Why am I posting this? This afternoon, a small excavator needed the fuel filter changed. That, and the fuel line needed to be purged. I was rewarded with diesel on my hands and it stinks. I left the job smelling of diesel. That sucks!
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.