Sweating Cream and Antioxidants

Posted: January 5, 2009 in kids, parenting, rants, wife

Like a crazy monkey on Ritalin who JUST WANTS HIS FUCKING BANANA

I’m back.

Actually, rereading that, I guess I didn’t make much sense there.

Welcome to my world.

It turns out that I somehow managed to survive another holiday.

HOW I’ve managed to do this while eating enough cake and pie to equal the weight of Rosie O’Donnell and that chick from Hairspray in a lesbian cellulose-filled camel-toe love lock, is beyond me.

Oh…nevermind…I know see how I’ve done it:

I write shit like that and it makes me throw up.

I ate a lot of pie.

Not THAT kind of pie, you sick bastards…

…the kind with crust on it.

Like, Cher’s.


Soon I shall be back into my size 4 jeans!

I wear woman’s jeans.

But I’ve digressed.

My wife is an excellent baker. Cakes…cookies…homemade chocolate covered pretzels…pies…you name it she can make it…

…and make it GOOD.

How she can manage to swing this ability while still being the only woman I’ve ever known to burn water is beyond me.

Baking is pretty much my wife’s cooking talent.

Suppers? Meals?

Not so much.

You see…

We ran out of ketchup last week.

Normal Household:

Husband: “Oh…hey honey..we’re out of ketchup.”

Wife: “Okay…I’ll pick some up this weekend at the store.”

Our Household:


* alarm sounds

Wife: “What?!?!? How did this happen?!? What will the kids eat, now?!?”

Kids: “We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

Husband: “I’ll run out right now and get ketchup…there’s only 6 inches of snow on the ground and I think this sleet will stop soon.”

Wife: “I’ve never loved you.”

It gets pretty rough in my house when we’re out of ketchup.

I would assume it’s similar to when one of those Sally Struther’s countries runs out of that white pasty shit we always see them eating on TV with their fingers.


* flies begin landing on their kids

Actually…this is no different than normal.

Kids: “Yummy! Flies! Where’s the ketchup?”

Nik-Nuk: “No ketchup, kids.”

* kids begin eating each other

Nik-Nuk: “I’ll go get some ketchup. However, I don’t think we know anyone that can grow tomatoes in sand and 120-degree heat.”

Mic-Nik-Naloonga: “I’ve never loved you.”

Poor Nik-Nuk.

All he wanted was for something to dip his termites in.

So, I guess I suppose it could be worse.

I mean, at least my wife has water to burn.

Seriously…you see should see that shit. It’s like nature in reverse.

I’m never getting pie again.

Either kind.

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