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
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
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
8:21 PM
6 Comments:
I too am no Betty Crocker. So no regifting the rice cooker to me. :) LOVE the song!
I've never had or used a rice cooker. I just rely on the old fashioned way of cooking rice. I wouldn't even know what to do with one! Kudos on your domestic goddessness!
Great song!
Miss Nev... in theory you pour in rice and water and select any variety of buttons. My old one had one button. On or off, just like my simple Metro. Too many gadgety options and distration ensues and somehow an old lady is dead by the end of it all.
I recommend the cooker, just not that one.
bulemic lol!
I hear you can make rice in a pot, on the stove...
ricers are awesome, don't listen to naysayers. Keeps the stove free for the important work.
This post had me in tears. hysterical! Kudos to Mr. Morgan for taking advantage of your domesticity - sometimes they don't know why they are suddenly more content. Not only does he recognize, but he's sneaky about it. I'd say that B word, but you hate that B word.
/blush. There's a B word I can handle. xo
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