I'm a little worried about what happens when I start to get a lot of Random posts and it goes beyond my comprehension of Roman Numerals. Or maybe I will go ahead and just start using actual numerals, not of the Roman persuasion. I can do that, bitchez...ya know why? It's my fucking blog. Better watch out, it's gonna get all crazy up in here.
I'm talking about the blog titles, not my head. Ahem.
Alexis is starting to move into the fun preteen years, which means that my alcohol and/or Xanax consumption will increase proportionally as well. So far the extent of her rebellion has been NOT having me check her math homework for errors and dawdling before bed, but I am totally bracing myself for a full out rebellion in a few years. I anticipate her advocating for a Trump/Palin presidency here soon, because really that would be the best way to rebel against me. That and starting to mix her food on her plate. I don't care what people say, if that shit was meant to go together it would be cooked together or be a food thing, like mashed potatoes and gravy. Mashed potatoes and corn is not a food thing, and nothing you say can convince me otherwise. Might as well make a bread sandwich for all the carbs and starches you are getting there. It's just gluttonous. And glutinous. Well, the bread sandwich that is. Potatoes and corn are gluten free I believe. But don't fucking quote me on that shit. I'm not a doctor. Possibly need one for my head, but not because I am delusional. There's many other reasons.
I wonder if I could possibly time it so that I will never have two females getting their periods at the same time again? Two females who live here full time, that is. If the two little girls get it at the same time, my fictional prescription for benzodiazapines might become a reality. I'm not getting mine anymore, as we all celebrated with cake last year. If I can get Charlie to hold off until she's like 14, Alexis will be getting ready to graduate and go off to college...so how could I make this happen? I took my magic wand to work so I could use it there, but it might be worth me bringing back home so I can arrange this.
About that doctor...
Elizabeth cleaned the hamster's cages out a few days ago. Bean was all nice and sweet when I held her while she was doing this, even if she did try to burrow into my boobs. Must be talking to the Baby Daddy 2.0 cause he tends to try to do that too. Reggie, however, was her psychotic self and further traumatized me by squealing loudly while staring me directly in the eye from her hamster ball. I'm glad I am not fluent in hamster because I'm pretty sure she was detailing my future dismemberment. I never thought I would be afraid of something that is less than three inches long, but her tiny little hamster squeaks are similar to the howls of demons from hell. And her cold, beady eyes are dead inside. I had nightmares that night. No joke.
I'm going to relive a bit of my childhood after work with the little girls and dust off the most ridiculous of toys, the EZ Bake oven. The name is really fucking misleading...who the fuck thought it would be easy to bake with a goddamned lightbulb? Like, I wonder how many fuckheads out there tried to make like actual food in them, and not just the nasty bags of chemicals they give you that are supposed to pass for desserts (for the record, I bought a bag of sugar cookie mix from the store vs the ones strictly for the oven. If we are going to eat crap, by God it is going to be somewhat good tasting crap.) Do people try to make meatloaves in this? How about Shepherd's Pie? And also, I can't believe that Shepherd's Pie is a food thing. I certainly won't eat that. Good thing we won freedom from the British all those years back if this is what they come up with for their food things.
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