Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Meeeeeoooooowww!

ShitFuckRainyTown was living up to it's name. There were four days in a row where I didn't see the sun. I started to feel like my soul was slipping out my butthole. And I couldn't think straight. It was a dangerous situation. I knew it was time to go.

So I came down here and found that Mr. AwesomeCool had become an indentured servant. He was doing all the cooking and cleaning. I was instantly insanely jealous. I'm the only person he should be spoiling rotten goddamnit! Fuck off family!

Not only that, but he had to live in the basement, sleeping on an air matress right next to four extremely smelly, loudly peeping chickens. And, it's not a room in the basement, mind you. It's just the basement. He was a fucking Cinderella. I sent him away to ShitFuckRainyTown.

I gathered everyone to the living room and made my announcement, "There's a new sheriff in town! Things is gonna change round here!"

I put my thumbs in my belt loops for emphasis, cause that's how we roll in Southern GoatLand.

"Are you going to cook for us?" Asked my aunt.

"No."

Everyone let out a groan of disgust, but I was not deterred.

I knew I had a difficult task ahead of me. Getting my family to do anything is like trying to herd drunk, criminally insane kittens.

However, I felt that with two 19 year olds, my aunt, a 9 year old, and me, we could take care of the grandparents and keep the house in less than hazmat superfund condition if we put a little effort into it.

Today I made a chore list with color coded assignments corresponding to each day of the week complete with an inspirational message for each recipient. For each chore finished the choree gets a gold star.

This kind of system went over like a purse-carrying, skinny-jeans wearing, orange hair-coloring, androgynous rock star with Korean children, so I figured it would be a big hit among the drunk, criminally insane kitten crowd.

The 19 year olds were vibrating with excitement. They did all their chores immediately and earned their gold stars. We all stood around and admired their newly decorated chore lists.

Though I tried to be fair, I somehow ended up with about half the chores of everyone else, then I ended up not doing most of what little chores I had. That's ok, because making a color coded chore list is quite a chore in itself.

My Aunt who insisted on having the most chores, disappeared with her goats for most of the day. She did not earn a gold star.

Then it was time for Dexter. Little-Awesome is a fan of the show. My aunt assured me she and my sister who are also rabid fans, covered her eyes during the gory parts, so it's all good in the hood.

Except that my aunt hadn't done all of her chores for the day. So I had to punish her a little bit.

Today I saw this video, because I do important things with my free time:



Earlier, I had tried out The Dougie to rave reviews when I did it in front of Fox news while my grandparents were trying to watch 'fair and balanced' election results.

So I once again put The Dougie to good use, blocking the TV for about 10 minutes while they all screamed at me to get the fuck out.

Also, despite my very convincing sheriff routine, somehow I ended up assigned to cook dinner. I wandered out to the garden where the goats were chewing on corn husks. I found a pumpkin.

"Is this edible?" I asked Grandpa.

"Yeah, that looks like a good one."

I took it up, cut it in half, scooped out all the seeds, put a half a cup olive oil and a few table spoons agave nectar in the middle and threw it in the oven at 350 for an hour.

Everyone groaned in disgust.

"Is that all we're having?"

"We usually get a variety!"

"Mr. AwesomeCool cooks three or four things!"

"Are you just going to leave it in that weird plastic cafeteria box?"

" Mr. AwesomeCool usually presents it better than that!"

I did The Dougie until they reluctantly scooped pumpkin out of a plastic box and left me alone. Like the drunk, criminally insane kittens they are, they will learn to expect less.

2 comments:

Blackchild said...

They must be extremely glad you are home.

SuperFantabulous said...

They thought they were. Then they remembered what I was like.