Screw folding fitted sheets, the wad works just fine.
Is that why I am still single?! ;D
Oh well, ain't gonna change now... ::lalanotlistening::
So when's the next installment? ::deercorn::
I'm outta sheet.
Happy Halloween Random - I love you
I'm outta sheet.
So you don't cotton to sheets. Must be one of those rich elitist 'born onto the silk' babies.
Happy Halloween Random - I love you
<hugs>
Don't know how to fold fitted sheets. Neither of us care. Yea. I win :)
I'm outta sheet.
So you don't cotton to sheets. Must be one of those rich elitist 'born onto the silk' babies.
Well, I do. I hate it, but there it is. Same thing applies to t-shirts with the side-seams that twist. Argh.
Y'all can do as you like with your own sheets in your own houses, but this is how we do it in mine.
And yes, he does pre treat his own t shirts.
And yes, he does pre treat his own t shirts.
Heh. I pre-treat my own too. Every damn time I fry bacon. I've thought of an apron, but somehow I always think I can outsmart the splatter.
And yes, he does pre treat his own t shirts.
Heh. I pre-treat my own too. Every damn time I fry bacon. I've thought of an apron, but somehow I always think I can outsmart the splatter.
And yes, he does pre treat his own t shirts.
Heh. I pre-treat my own too. Every damn time I fry bacon. I've thought of an apron, but somehow I always think I can outsmart the splatter.
And yes, he does pre treat his own t shirts.
Heh. I pre-treat my own too. Every damn time I fry bacon. I've thought of an apron, but somehow I always think I can outsmart the splatter.
Fry nekkid?
And yes, he does pre treat his own t shirts.
Heh. I pre-treat my own too. Every damn time I fry bacon. I've thought of an apron, but somehow I always think I can outsmart the splatter.
Fry nekkid?
::thinking:: OUCH!
What's pre treat?
What's pre treat?
So when is the next installment? ::popcorn::
So when is the next installment? ::popcorn::
Sorry, my piece~o~crap job tends to drain most of my life-energy outta me. And today was Bluegrass.
I jusyt asked the wife if she knows how to fols a fitted sheet and of course Mrs. I know everything does and yes she pretreats and a stain in anything just drives her to distraction.
Since I don't give a crap about stains I will leave the house in anything I happen to have on at the time which freacks her out because she feels it reflects on her.
I on the other hand don't care what a world full of people that don't know me or I them think about the damned stain on a T SHIRT.
She's tried for 41 years to get abudge out of me on that but so far I wear whatever I have on to any damned place I need to go.
Soup I'm hanging here type something already!!
There was never any experimentation – ever.
Foods must not touch.
“You what?!”
“I said I don’t like turkey so we’re not having it for Thanksgiving!”
What a way to start the holiday. My mom loved food. She loved cooking and she loved eating, and she loved to see her family enjoy a meal. I don’t think that there was a food she didn’t like, including some stuff I considered truly revolting. My dad was a meat & potatoes kind of guy. Give him a meatloaf and mashed potatoes and he was in heaven. I fall somewhere in between but lean way nearer to my mom. When my mom took an oriental cooking class we (teenaged) kids eagerly looked forward to her bringing her homework home to the table. It was neat to try new things and even if they weren’t exactly exotic they seemed exotic to our palates.
And I knew enough about kids – including remembering back to being a kid – to know what finicky eaters they can be. And fickle too. They can rave about a dish one time and then turn their nose up at the very mention of it ever afterward. They can want Mac & Cheese for every meal for a month and then never want to see it again. And mostly they can reject the very notion of a food without ever having sampled it. Kids are susceptible to (negative) suggestion so responsible people don’t go out of their way to “poison the well” by needlessly building in biases against food.
The thing that irritated me most was that she went out of her way to teach and encourage her food bigotry to our kids. She would mock and taunt them whenever they ate something that she didn’t like. She would tell them that they (or anyone else out of earshot) were “stupid” to like something she didn’t like. Apparently the whole world was screwed up when it came to food, and she was the balanced one – or so she would have you believe.
I never met anyone (before or since) who was more finicky about food than she was. Food, condiments, preparation, presentation, anything and everything having to do with food. I could tell you about her dislikes but it is (almost) easier to simply list would she would eat. As I said my dad had a limited repertoire of food but the difference between the two of them was that he didn’t choose to visit his limitations on the rest of us. She did – routinely.
At one point after high school she took a summer job in a pickle factory. As a result she wouldn’t allow pickles in the house because she couldn’t stand the smell of the brine. Vinegar made her gag so it had to be kept out in the garage. Same with lemon. Even though you couldn’t smell the contents of a sealed container the mere presence would trigger the gag reflex.
So she didn’t like turkey (what else was news?!). Why was it such a big deal? Because if she didn’t want it then we didn’t have it. It didn’t matter what anyone else wanted, liked, or could eat. If she didn’t like it, it would never be on our table.
Instead we typically had a pork roast or ham. Of course I had no objection to those entrées – but I was raised to have turkey at Thanksgiving and anything less felt like robbery.
It didn’t stop with the turkey (of course). Corn and green beans were the only vegetables she would eat. Both had to be S&W canned brand - frozen “tasted funny” and any other brands were simply “gross” in her estimation. Any other vegetable was summarily dismissed as disgusting. There was never any experimentation – ever. If there wasn’t a McD’s or a Burger King around she would go hungry. I prefer Coke but if I’m in the mood for a soda I’ll drink (almost) anything. For her it was Dr. Pepper or she did without. And it had to be ice cold. Anything less and she did without. No ice – if it was served with ice she sent it back. Oh, and a straw. God help you if you served her a drink without a straw. We kept a case of straws in the cupboard so she wouldn’t be without. The bendy kind. I was indifferent to them and the kids weren’t allowed to use them so they were for her exclusive use (except for when she would go out in which case I’d let the kids have one).
She didn’t like milk so the kids didn’t get milk. They had the audacity to refuse to eat cereal in water (yechh!) so she would make them eat toast for breakfast. I discovered these individual portions of oatmeal and those were allowed (thank God!).
Like I said, presentation counted as much as content. Foods must not touch. If they somehow came into contact the plate was immediately scraped and she would start over. Foods had to be consumed individually and completely. She wouldn’t touch anything else on her plate until the salad was completely gone. Then the vegetable. Then the mashed potatoes. Then the meat. She would invariably drink 21/2 glasses of water with a typical meal. She was afraid of chemicals in the water so we always had bottled water (for her). Casseroles were verboten because she couldn’t tell what might be in them – and the notion of all those different kinds of food touching one another must have been unnerving.
The ameliorating factor came with being in a large family. That meant that quite often we spent the holiday with one family or another (sometimes shuttling between households in order not to slight anyone). I took a small cruel pleasure at her ill-ease during these outings because my family was normal and so was most of hers. So when we visited she was stifled (ever so slightly). She still would sneer at family members and criticize their food preferences but it was a lot more subdued.
For our little family the celebration of Thanksgiving usually came as an acknowledgement that we had endured another one without a major blow-up.
What’s more pitiful than a child’s toy that is never played with?
One of my close lady friends never had a Barbie as a child, so a few Christmases ago, I got her one of the "collectibles", just because. She cried.
My mom used to try and pull that "I'm buying these toys for a keepsake" bullsh*t. I would make a point to make sure the kids were playing with them in front of Grandma so she'd get the message.
Collectibles, especially chick stuff, seems to garner better value if you have the original box it came in. I never got that...it's cardboard, it's worthless...but I am a guy, I buy something to use and toss the rest...
And guys are accused of being "packrats"? ::whatgives::
Collectibles, especially chick stuff, seems to garner better value if you have the original box it came in. I never got that...it's cardboard, it's worthless...but I am a guy, I buy something to use and toss the rest...
And guys are accused of being "packrats"? ::whatgives::
Thanks - your post will be the foundation for my next chapter.
The Shrine of Spite...and she snuffed a cat...what a heart!
/
Did you ever have any fantasies about going Dillinger on that mess? Talk about a tough impulse to quiet!
The Shrine of Spite...and she snuffed a cat...what a heart!
/
Did you ever have any fantasies about going Dillinger on that mess? Talk about a tough impulse to quiet!
Yes.
If I had gone ahead and done the world a favor by removing her I would be out of jail by now.....and Random would still be alive.
If I had gone ahead and done the world a favor by removing her I would be out of jail by now.....and Random would still be alive.
The Shrine of Spite...and she snuffed a cat...what a heart!
/
Did you ever have any fantasies about going Dillinger on that mess? Talk about a tough impulse to quiet!
Yes.
If I had gone ahead and done the world a favor by removing her I would be out of jail by now.....and Random would still be alive.
The Shrine of Spite...and she snuffed a cat...what a heart!
/
Did you ever have any fantasies about going Dillinger on that mess? Talk about a tough impulse to quiet!
Yes.
If I had gone ahead and done the world a favor by removing her I would be out of jail by now.....and Random would still be alive.
When we camped at Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota, a large HERD of buffalo (more correctly "bison") wandered through the campground. The bulls were in no mood for anything but sex, since they were in "rut." Most of the campers just got in their cars or RVs and let the animals do their thing - lasted about 1/2 hour. No damage, no problems.
I'm a little late to the party, but that metric crapload of Garfield stuff is both impressive and disturbing.
Pages of that rag work better than the left hand.
Nice story 'Soup. ::thumbsup::
Thank you. I find it therapeutic to put this stuff to "pen".
Thank you. I find it therapeutic to put this stuff to "pen".
Don't stop now you're almost sane. ::unknowncomic::
Did you let 'em?
Which thought came first?
1) How cute!
2) Who would ever know?
:D
Enough of this kind of bullspit happening to people like us, but the Ruling Class continues to skate on far, far worse. There is no justice in the Justice System.
Did they put in a claim to your insurance??
Did they put in a claim to your insurance??
Surprisingly enough, no.
If you don't mind my asking, what did your brother say?
Did they put in a claim to your insurance??
Surprisingly enough, no.
And they called the cops?? Why??
Did they put in a claim to your insurance??
Surprisingly enough, no.
And they called the cops?? Why??
"The best defense is a good offense"
It is just a guess but I imagine that he felt it would add credibility to his damage claim against me if he could get a police report into the mix. That plus the claim that I hit him and then ran away makes him clearly the victim. He wouldn't need to file a claim with the insurance company if the court awarded damages. Plus he would have the cops as a barrier between us - because he is a cowardly liar.
What baffled me was the time delay between when this allegedly happened - 10/5/15 - and when they sent out the summons - 5/16-16. Why did it take them six months to notify me? Why did they never reach out to me as part of an investigation?