So weird. I just had this woosh in my stomach and the thought, "Ugh, Monday." Oh little 'wildered....it's Friday. I think I just ruined my weekend.
Other then waking me up occasionally, they're not bothering me so I don't really give a damn what they're doing. I get along with them, their "Friends" don't jack my shit up. I remember being young and I'll never be the neighbor that peeks out the curtains and calls the cops to report "I know the folks next door are on drugs." Fuck that noise, leave me be and I'll respond in kind.
Yea, I thought the same thing. I guess this is how she announces it to the world. Is it me or is "woosh in the stomach" a metaphor for something, something related to the act of getting pregnant.
Alright, I am going to make a Caesar tomorrow, anybody got a perfect recipe? Guy at work recommended them, I gotta be honest I am skeptical about the Clamato juice.
An ex of mine bought some Clamato and it had something in it. We swished it around and tried to figure out what the hell it was. It was almost like a clam that didn't get ground up, but something was amiss. Years later I asked her about it and she told me she sent it in and it was a mouse minus it's fur. In the jar. Offered for sale to the general public. Yum.
Get a bottle of the liquid lemon juice and put about .5" into a bowl. Turn a tall glass upside down and dip it into the lemon juice? Alternatively, you can slice a lemon up and "rim" the glass with the lemon Put seasoning salt into a different bowl and take the lemon juice dipped glass and dip into into the seasoning salt creating the "rimmer" Fill with ice Lots of vodka (you can also use gin. The first time I heard that I laughed my ass off until I tried it. Some prefer the gin to vodka, I still prefer the vodka) 3 to 4 healthy squirts of Worcestershire sauce Some of the lemon juice Clamato A healthy dose of Tabasco Salt Pepper Stir At this point, you can add olives, pickles, pickled apasaragus, anything. I have seen just about any damn thing in a Cesar, including bacon. Whatever floats your boat. Lick rimmer Drink Repeat as necessary It always works for me. Best served Sunday morning when you're coming off a drunk. You're welcome earth.
Raise you ESP's EXP: Some guys say a shitty guitar plays just as well as an expensive one. They are wrong. I, admittedly, own a guitar way out of my skill level. This thing makes me a better player. No shit. Sadly they don't make this anymore. The action on it is tits, the neck is like butter. Everything is perfect on it. Plus it sounds the same as it did 15 years ago (mine not pictured).
Sunday morning coming off a drunk: Go to fridge, get a beer, drink it. Repeat as necessary. Seems a hell of a lot easier to me.
I just bought an ESP KH-202 off e-bay. I haven't played it yet because it's somewhere between here and Tennessee on a Fed-Ex truck. I know ESP by reputation and the ones I've played have been pretty damn good. And I love having a Floyd Rose. I'll never forget when I got my first REAL guitar. I was 19 and upgraded from an Aria to a Gibson KZ II. Holy shit! It was like I suddenly jumped from sucking to not sucking. A good guitar makes a huge difference. I still suck, but I suck much less with a decent guitar then I do on a Squire. And if any of y'all know where I can pick up another KZ II, I'd love to know about it. Those things are impossible to find.
It is going to get above 60 degrees for the first time this year. Fuck yeah. Nice day to binge drink as tomorrow is Jägerettes birthday.
Aren't you in Europe? You know, Celsius and all that weird shit? Some quick math and 60 degrees works out to roughly 150 degrees Fahrenheit .Won't her tit's catch on fire? That would be the worst birthday ever. Take pictures.
Just don't be like my mother who cleans up before the cleaning lady comes. She will vacuum, dust and so on.
My Oma(Dutch Grandmother) used to do that to Mum, Mum would have cleaned the house top to bottom and whenever Oma was over to stay she would start cleaning everything anyway.
THIS. "Oh Tom, the house is disgusting, tidy some of your stuff up before the cleaning lady comes, you'll embarrass us!" This concept completely boggles my mind. It's so alien to me I don't know where to begin in order to wrap my brain around it. Never mind the fact that our cleaning lady is basically a family member who's been around for +/- 15 years and is probably the only cleaning lady in the history of the planet to get paid holidays and bonuses (despite some jarring ongoing flaws on her part), she also basically has her job done for her. I wish I had my cleaning lady's job. My sister has bought into this retardilosophy as well, except my sister being my sister she's done so in a much more strident and aggressive fashion than my parents. Thus, when I'm home exchanges like the following are legion: Sister: "Clean up the dirty pans from lunch! The cleaning lady's coming!" Tom: "Er... precisely. She can do it." Sister: "So you're just going to let that stuff sit there until the SERVANTS clean it up??" Tom: "Well, we have an employee, who we pay to come here and clean for several hours, so yeah, she can clean up my dirty dishes. If I were to take additional time out of my day to clean up in preparation for her arrival, that would make me an imbecile." Sister: "THAT'S SO DISRESPECTFUL!" Tom: "Fuck this, I'm out." *Jumps out of window, lands on white horse, rides off into the sunset*
My parents had a cleaning lady come once a week, despite the fact our house was usually about as messy as the clean room of a burn ward. Dust landing on the floor sounds like cymbals clashing together to my folks.
We have a cleaning person that cleans the house. It's called 'Me.' Being a 'kept' man ain't all it's cracked up to be.
The reason we had a clean house is because I was also forced to be Alice. Every day I would have to make the beds, empty every trash can, fill & empty dishwasher, collect all laundry and throw the recycling in the Blue Box. I did any and all yard and outdoor work, and to boot had strict, risk-averse curfews. oh yes the life of an only child.