Time served, on leave.

Hi kids, what's new? I'm done done and fuck it level of DONE. Good weekend, but I more than earned my housewife patch and have even dressed it up with ribbons, sequins and glitter. Mr. Morgan has never been so well fed and I thought he was going to have a stroke to saunter into the kitchen at any given time to find me armed with a spatula. That item is not just for flipping food, it doubles quite well to whap the shit out of a hand that has snuck in, to sample. On a good day, the spatula is nicely slicked with boiling hot bacon grease to offer the theif a little something extra. Nothing comes without a price.

I've noticed odd items entering the house that have never been here before. Cookie dough, beef, raw potatos.... shit that clearly indicate my level of new found domestication is being capitalized on. So, starting Thursday night the sex and food doors opened. Not at the same time and no coupons were presented. Come Sunday evening.... this bitch is worn out. I seriously had 4 fights, one getting physical, with kitchen wares. I'm at the crossroads of not giving a shit if anyone in this house ever eats again. They can chew on cardboard for as far as my interest goes.

Those of you with children have my sympathy. It's like the vultures have telepathy and like magic they begin circling, trying to look innocent. Oh I didn't know you were cooking! Cunt the fuck off, yes you did.

So about this rice cooker. Whoever gave it to me, I wish you double foot rot without hands able to scratch the itch or pick the scabs. I was perfectly happy with my bargain rice cooker of over ten years ago for 12.99. I could trust it. It was as bottom line as anything gets, but that carried a particular charm to me, I don't really need shit with too many buttons.

I gave in a opened the new cooker today after months of realizing re-gifting wasn't going to happen, no one would take it off my hands. It is flashy. Button-ey. Looked like it knew everything to be known about cooking rice.

Sitting down for the first time in three harrowing hours of beating the shit out of my beloved mate, one dog and a rice cooker, I would love to return all three of them to their former owners. The Russian was dust. He's no fool, but it got so bad I went looking for him JUST to bitch him out for not being included in the beatings.

I've made rice. A bunch, this dish is more than rice.... it's complicated. I know you were all thinking it - 3 hours for rice??? Lol actually yeah, it's a lot more than rice. All rice cookers have a steam portion that is necessary. The new cooker is bulemic. It spat water, and goo for over an hour, I couldn't keep up with the mess and between my sponge and the old cooker, I heard definite happiness and even a bet on if I would slip in some of the spatter and land solidly on my ass. It also burned me very badly, I am not very fond of being burned, more less fond of it when it's not even something I was interested in eating. I.... hate.... the ..... new cooker! I don't know where, but it's going on someone's doorstep like an unasked for new pet.

We also made peanut butter cookies that were greeted with a frown because I forgot a couple of the criss-cross marks. That is not the time to enter a rice kitchen and frown at a cookie unless one is hoping for criss-cross marks to the forehead.

End of the day.... compare my old rice cooker to the perfect spouse who knows exactly what is expected, and the new cooker to a working girl that by the end of the day, all hell has broken loose and you are out money as a bonus to the "DOH!" moment.

Btw, you guys know Imogen? Thank me later, Mr. Morgan and I love us this song very many. Lovely. How something is so romantically bitter sweet with words, I am most impressed. Speaks so truly of life.





-DM

Emancipation

The bunnies have slowly begun to leave. The few that are left have begun a swift hush of fear, defeat, if you will. They no longer want trouble and have turned on one another, much greeted by my wicked victorious grin. I've never heard a bunny rat on another bunny so fast. The finger pointing is rampant.

I warned those crafty bitches that judgement day was coming and the sneakery was doomed. They booed me and said I was full of shit. That I couldn't "bring it" if I tried. Well. Whip out a stitch puller and a pair of crazy eyes, they fall right in line. It... my bunny friends.... was Brought!.

I hit the post office to send two bunnies off (Turtle and Omlette. They all have names. I didn't pick the names, they told me who they were, or I overheard). While joining the formation of the post office line it was palpable the thick layer of "ew" from the other line standers. These people were miserable! Some even left muttering that they "didn't have time for this." Sweet! Faster line for me. I don't imagine anything so emergent that one can be shocked to find a line at the post office. It amused me. A lot. I mean come on, sack up for a wait. I truly think some people went in there just to be cranky and hope for a fight in some weird craving to defer anger that didn't apply specifically to the post office. Mad? Go postal right?

To pass my time I fumbled with my large bunny boxes as though they were very heavy (half a pound each at best) just to see if anyone would aide the small girl with the heavy luggage. Not a single fucker stepped forward. A few diverted eye contact. Chivelry is gone. Entertained me all the same until my turn was up.

I then went to walmart to get Mr. Morgan canned air as his Xbox is on strike. Plus I was seeking more piss poor attitudes. I was carded for a can of air.

"Are you 18?"
"Sure Pick an age, I'm that."

"Should I be worried about this can of air?"
"Well... you know, the kids now days."
"Not really. Air is free, and it's all around me, why would I buy it for any other reason than blasting something with it? I could have stayed home and saved gas, what is it that I'm going to do with this if I'm underage?"
"There are chemicals."
"In air? You're kidding."
"The scanner says I have to check your ID."
/laugh "Alright."

Since the air comes with a tiny hose - the better to blast you with - I thought to say "oh look, it comes with a free tooter!" but I didn't. I was done entertaining my silly thoughts and figured it would soon lead to trouble.

The fellow behind me was the only only shopper/employee in the entire store with a decent mood. We bonded together swiftly thinking safety in numbers. Small numbers albiet, but better than being a rogue lamb in the wild isles of walmart misery. Those people will roll you under their cart and not even look back. Celery was on sale or something.

5 bunnies down.... few more to go. Miss Nev, Bosslady's Daughter has yours.

- DM

Resurrection

I have completely disregarded St. Patricks Day for the sake of Easter. As not is unusual my crafting begins as an easy idea then takes tricky turn on me and morphs into more of a burden than fun. Those who do not receive a basket, don't feel slighted and I'll tell you why.

I began with sewing the bunnies. Much like Frankenstein the more I stiched, the more I started to hear snickering from the bunnies. More stitching and the bunnies found power in numbers and the giggle chitter chat turned to plotting within a blink of a bunny eye. I happen to know which one is the ring master starting all this sneakery. They began to get into shit. Everywhere we went was a sneaky bunny acting like it had always been there when in fact they were running surveillance and staking out the battling ground. These bunnies were up to no good!

We have begun to fear the bunnies. We hadn't fed them after midnight, they are just antic prone bunnies and they won't be missed. I remember watching Gremlins for the first time and taking their side, thinking "hell let little guy have a bite of fun" I now understand why people didn't concur. The mischief can go too far and a bunny revolt is on my hands if I don't burden you fine people with them immediately. They must be separated as cannot be trusted in a pack. They have threatened to take the chicks hostage if demands are not met - and friends, they aren't fucking around. They waved off carrot offers with insulted scowls as though I'd taken a dump on their lap.

Beware... the bunnies.



-DM

By the way I look hot.

My puppy bit me in the face tonight. In a fast way that came and went so swiftly that my arm didnt have time to power up and return the blow. Remember my puppy is hitting about 65 pounds now so it's not a sly cute bite. My fault for thinking we could play and be reasonable folks. Her idea of reasonable does not resemble mine. Hit below for the evidence of what led to being bitten.

No, I'm not bleeding, just wearing that look of "did you just??? oh hell no, I'm gonna get me a shovel and start diggin." She remains quite alive.

Kylee hears a Who

Better me than the Russian I guess, even toothless he bites back and charges full force with the most pissy attitude I can possibly fathom. He's having none of her shit anymore and I think is holding a grudge for what she did tonight, h doesn't like his feeder being upset, he has his own agenda. She was too excited and forgot I wasn't a bone. It happens. Happy weekend all.

- DM

Can't hear for shit

Ok so a few posts down I linked up to what I thought was a happy hippy song. How could anything sound so upbeat yet mean to be such a fucking downcry buzzkill. I'm sorry I looked up the lyricss frankly, I posted it only because it gave me an upbeat stomp to my stride. I was actually making my easter wrappings there are roaming bunnies and chicks .. one took off with a slice of chocolate to not be associated with the song. I begged them and they eventually came back, with conditions of course. Are ya just HOPIN' not hoppin'. but hopin' that you are getting one of these packages? Plead your case in comments for consideration. Meanwhile... the sog is two posts below and here are the dismal lyrics. I'm really sorry... I didn't know thumbs were being lost while taking buns down with them, and I incidentally love love love my town. I guess a good beat won in the end. I do however, dance like the king of all eyesores.

- DM

gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
only, i don't know how they got out, dear.
turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.
i was happier then with no mind-set.

and if you'd 'a took to me like
a gull takes to the wind.
well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
and i'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
and the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

new slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
never should have called
but my head's to the wall and i'm lonely.

and if you'd 'a took to me like
a gull takes to the wind.
well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
and i'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
and the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

god speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
and bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.

i'm looking in on the good life i might be doomed never to find.
without a trust or flaming fields am i too dumb to refine?
and if you'd 'a took to me like
well i'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
and the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

Loving Advertising Bliss

Have you ever bought a product that bodly lied to you? Said things that were so uncontrollably forcing themselves into your cart whether you required them or not? Of course, we all have sauntered home with a ridiculous item.

"Cat litter?"
"Yes."
"We don't own a cat."
"Oh."

My list runs deep and I spend a lot of time looking at things that are brought into the house. Keep in mind I don't do the shopping here. I send Mr. Morgan off with a list that he has to cleverly decipher. Crpytic items such as "fruit, pick one" or below "bowl fixit"

He's gotten pretty good at understanding what I mean when I say shit that makes perfect sense to me. Any other person would have come home with caulk and a new toilet seat. He came home with a bottle of holy that had it's own theme song coming out of the bag. It's neck properly suited for an easy disperal, and eagerness to relieve all my toilet ring anxieties. Right, I'm deeply invested into how my toilet looks. All the same, I asked for it.

I then noticed, because as mentioned I read things.... probably while ON the toilet, and this product kills the flu virus. Gimme a minute here to not burst into.... ok yeah just gimme a minute.


Am I in danger of catching the flu from my toilet? Is influenza rampant in the deep swirls of my bowl? If it is, short of a Saturday night gone poorly, should my face be close enough that I think I'm taking a risk? I'm extremely entertained that it's a selling point for a toilet cleaner. It's as if they are predicting our faces to be in ground zero and needing extra protection. Far as I know, I've not once contracted the flu through my ass.... so I think that angle of selling is very funny.

So I went nuts. If it's such a good product (and honestly.... it is) I doused my entire shower with it to work it's anti-flu magic. One never can be too safe. The shower was slightly offended to be compared to a toilet, but did it want a good bath or not? I almost even bathed the dogs in the shit, aiming it like a sidearm with a powerfull squirt and GOTCHA!, it's that good at de-filthing everything Morgan.

Product approval.

- DM