Am I a girl because I bought Pumpkin shoes?

Oh dear God what have I done.

It’s not as bad as that of course but there’s nothing like a bit of drama to start off
the morning.

It started out innocently enough, Teacher came round early.  She has this strange obsession with LOST.  Now I don’t get it myself.  Perhaps it’s cos I missed the crucial first 100 episodes, or something.  If so how freaking good is it?!  It’s like Fomudder and Surly.. Oh I must ask and see if they wanna go to the Browns game on Sunday.  I scored tickets from a friend – he had to go to Britain for a fortnight, poor bastard (  So he gave me the tickets, out of the kindness of his heart.

Shit if I continue writing like this you’ll all have some strange idea that I’ve had too much caffine and I’m actually bouncing off the walls, which is only true in my own mind of course.

So anyway about LOST.  Fom and Surly have invested so much time into this video game that they literally can’t stop playing it now.  When you have four or five years of your life tied up in your characters you tend to become attached to them.  Much as Teacher seems to be attached to LOST.  See!  There was a point to that inane rant!

Meanwhile back on the ranch;  Teacher came round early, by which I mean 4:15.  I was at home but working, there was actually traffic coming back and forth via my mailbox.  So there was no TV on just the Yahoo Adult Alternative channel burbling out of the desktop speakers.  For some reason she was a tad hyper.   Don’t know if it was cos she hadn’t had time to unwind from work or what.  Could have been the vague promise of the new menu item at “Krave’s Discount Sex Outlet”, who knows.  She’s bouncing all over the place and askin’ when we can get something to eat.  (Just for the record, I don’t usually eat till like 7.  Otherwise I find I’m starving by 9.)  

I finally cave and off we go to find somewhere to eat.  I have a vague plan of going in past the grocery store for some cleaning stuff, sometime in the evening.  Which is when I strike on the idea of going to the local funeral restaurant.

I can hear you now.  “What?! You took her to dinner at the cemetery?!  Surely not to the crematorium!”  No, no.  I took her to the local eatery that seems to cater to funeral parties.  You know.  After they do whatever with the box and everyone piles back for some good wholesome food while still wearing all that black.  *shudder*  Makes for a rather disturbing lunch location sometimes now that I think about it.  Not because it’s a funeral, nor because they are all old and dressed in black.  More because the bastards are all getting shite faced at lunch time!  Where’s the justice!  Hang on…  I seem to have slipped off the thread again.

Reeling myself in…
We have this huge amount of food and in the grand tradition – or so she tells me – of American society we promptly binge.  At some later time she tells me.  We are supposed to purge, hence the chant “Binge and Purge, Binge and Purge”.  That we were mumbling after the fourth course.

We get out of there and she’s looking around.  She’s never been to this part of town before and the restaurant is set in a little strip mall.  Now waaayy over there is a new discount store.  “Let’s go check it out”, she says.  Obviously I shouldn’t have scoffed at her for drinking coffee with dinner, because she’s off like a bat out of hell!  While I’m plodding along trying, like a blimp into a headwind, to make some headway.  She finally takes pity on me with a “Oh!  Your soo cute!” and leads me by the arm like a some decrepit old geezer, to our destination.

I think I may have died on that long, long walk.  Why?  Well, because when we walked through the miniscule automatic doors.  My newly acquired distended body would barely fit through them.  I heard heavenly musac playing and there were many “things” of many shapes and sizes.

Lets just say that I lost two hours of my life in there.  I was lost in a euphoric dilemma of what not to buy.  Everything was simply such a bargin!  I even bought some pumpkin shoes.  I know the girls are going to be snickering into there expensive cappuccino’s, what can I say?!  I fell madly in love with a pair of shoes.  I’m ashamed as man to admit that.  Actually I may go back and delete it.  Of course that would mean that I have to actually read some of the crap that I write and like my cooking.  It can’t be done.  If I ever wrote a book.  I would have to have someone go through the bastard to fix all the grammar.  Let alone wade through and remove all the nonsense.  

Oops a ticket… Must work…  Let me leave you with this.  I spent over $100 last night and my only regret is that I couldn’t physically carry any more!