That's A Lot of Grease and Other Grossness

Four months of oil and bacon grease

How to Know if You Live in the Ghetto

~Jon, dear, don't read this post. You are an excellent provider & never think otherwise~

Go outside, take a look around, and marvel at your neighborhood. One day, you are living in a perfectly nice, working class suburb. The neighbors know each other, their kids play together in the street...then, one day something happens. Any number of bad things can happen, too many to list in fact. The point is, at some point or another, the quaint working-class neighborhood you used to live in has morphed into ghetto. Some of us don't realize that, in fact, that our place has become a ghetto. Aside from the obvious signs, like old ladies selling cocaine in your driveway on Wednesday afternoons, there are some other key signs that you do, in fact, live in the ghetto. Please allow me to list a few just so you are aware.

You May Live in the Ghetto If...

1. Nothing in your house is mounted or held in place properly. Any repairs made to property by your landlord are shoddy at best.
2. It doesn't matter what day is trash day, because your neighbors will pile massive amounts crap in your yard regardless.



"I have been sitting here almost a week."

3.) The city doesn't bother to repair any property damage they do to the lot because they figure, "Meh, we're in a bad side of town anyway. Why bother?"

4.) You have a house that is literally falling in on itself next door.

5.)   Illegal Immigrants come with baskets to collect fruit that grows in the yard of the condemned house.

      

6.) Even the mailbox tries to steal your shit.

7.)    You wake every morning to a combination of train horns and N.W.A. blaring from cars driving by.

8.)    Girl Scouts don't try to sell you cookies, Jehovah's Witnesses won't pass out "TheWatchtower", and you will see no Mormons on bikes trying to spread the word about the Latter Day Saints.

9.)    You've had a random child knock on your door at 3 a.m. on the coldest night of the year looking for his mother, and you had to call Child Protective Services. (true story)

10.)  The last unit in your complex is rented by a single, teenage mother. How do I know she's single?

11.)   When you leave a half decent pair of shoes or furniture outside for trash day, it mysteriously disappears before the trash man arrives.
12.)   Your friends are afraid to come over after dark.
13.)   Your parents think you should wait on having kids until the "schools in the area are better" or you have "a bit more space."


There are many more reasons. I simply can't list them all. However, this should be enough to give you a basic understanding and let you know if your living in a dump. I have composed a little song about our first little apartment together. I would sing it for you, but I would sound like William Hung. Therefore, I will simply give you the lyrics, plus the original tune that the lyrics were adapted from. Click the link to see the original music video, and get a hint of the melody if you have never heard it. Enjoy.

"All Things Considered"

Original Song by: Yankee Grey

Adapted Lyrics by: Me

All things considered we’re doin' just fine even though

We have debt the size of Texas at our baaaaank
The way I feel I should be losing my mind
But all things considered
We’re doin' just fine

Woke up this morning to the sound of fights outside our door
We got served a piece of paper for breakfast that said
“Pay right now or you don't live here no more”
And the stray dog won't let me pet him, he just drags
my trash out in the street
And the train made me late again
We should have just stayed in bed asleep

All things considered we’re doin' just fine even though
We have debt the size of Texas at our baaaank
The way I feel I should be losing my mind
But all things considered
We’re doin' just fine

Well the A.C. broke down again right before the city cut off the gas
And the hoodlum kid’s words are ringing in my head
“One more new thing and I’m robbin’ your...” yeah
Well I can’t wait till five o clock when I drive my beater back towards the house
So I can sit in traffic all day
And end up going to the ghetto!

All things considered we’re doin' just fine even though
We have debt the size of Texas at our baaaaank
The way I feel I should be losing my mind
But all things considered
We’re doin' just fine



Finally, Dessert #3 Carrot Cake- Lessons Learned

The Carrot Cake is not all that exciting, and there is really not much to tell.

Except this: Buying pre-shredded carrots instead of using the baby carrots you have on hand and manually grating them is infinitely more wise. I would post of a picture of my shredded, disfigured fingernails, but I had to file them all down when they continually caught on everything. It would probably gross you out, too. To my knowledge, no one found fingernail in their cake.

The cake tasted marvelous, and I actually got a piece of it at the KC Luncheon. So yea for that.

Excuse me now. I am off to kill my Rumba for getting stuck for the 14th time in the same place. It's like door jams are like a black hole for Rumbas.

All I want for Christmas is a Clean Kitchen

Christmas if flying up on me and for all of the one of you that have been keeping up, I have done a bazillion cooking jobs for parties. Well, after having a vomitous maximus stomach virus, I decided to sanitize everything in the house. I MUST CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!

This brings me to the fact that I HATE dishes. Dirty dishes are gross. So gross in fact, that even though I am over the vomiting phase of this disease, I might have catastrophic vomit relapse because of having to do these dishes. Currently, I am stuck with a counter-full of dishes and only me to do them.

One of these days my children will be dish washing masters...

*vom*