A day in the life of Ape

1. Ape was late to work today because he killed a rat IN his house.

2. Tonight is burrito night.

Two things that are not related I hope.

Ape and the food faeries

Ape is on the phone with his mommy, telling her there’s nothing to eat at work, and asking her to bring him something, and that he’d really appreciate it. I am not kidding. Because a 40 fucking year old man didn’t bring himself lunch and can’t figure out why there isn’t any here. The fucking food faeries must be off today. Idiot.

Ape’s annoying eating habits

I don’t see how any woman could ever put up with Ape for any amount of time without strangling him. His food habits are disgusting and annoying. I don’t  know how in the hell he gets any work done, because every time I turn around he’s making something to eat.

I could cook thanksgiving dinner in less time than it takes him to butter a couple of English muffins – scrape scrape scrape scrape scrape.

Rice Krispies – no pop crackle snap. It’s all crunch crunch, slurp, cling cling, scrape scrape, slurp.

Popcorn – crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch, crunch crunch.

Soup – cling, slurp, cling, slurp, cling cling, slurp.

Breakfast nuisance

I got mad at him yesterday. We were supposed to take the kids for breakfast Saturday morning. I have to think of things like this because otherwise we will sit in the house all weekend and do nothing, ever. So he says yeah ok.

He’s such a picky eater that he won’t bother eating anything but pancakes if we go out, and he won’t do buffets. There are no iHops around or Pancake houses. So I spend 20 minutes on the computer finding a place that serves pancakes. I finally find a place.

He says: I don’t want to eat there.

I was pissed, said: Why not?

He says: They cook their french fries and fish in the same batter.

I said: Ten fucking years ago you had a French fry that tasted funny and now you won’t eat breakfast there?! You eat hot dogs at 7-11 for god’s sake! This isn’t about you. It’s for the kids. Suck it up and stop thinking about yourself for once.

He walks away and sulks. I end up taking the kids for breakfast by myself. By the time we got home he was eating a sandwich from 7-11.

Ape’s lunch today

Ape just walked in with an old dirty opened quarter box of cereal and a gallon milk container with about 2 cups of milk in the bottom, said it was his lunch. I ignored him.

He likes when people feel sorry for him and give him their food for lunch because he’s too cheap to buy his own and too lazy to make anything. He makes more money than most of us but keeps our change if he picks up takeout for us.

I hope his cereal is stale and his milk is sour.

Zippy Doo Doo – a night out to eat

There’s new a place in town that we thought we’d try to eat out for a change. I don’t know how these places stay open, but I don’t expect it to be for long.  I changed their name to Zippy Doo Doo because that’s what it should be.

There were only about 3 tables of people there when we got there at 7. I said oh this isn’t good. I went safe and got chicken alfredo and a ceasar salad. John did the typical man thing and got a pizza. No one ever came to ask how it was or if we wanted another drink or anything. (John declared his pizza good, but he’ll eat frozen pizza and act like it’s gourmet.)

They bring my “ceasar” salad. It was a plate of white and yellow wilted lettuce with 2 grean leaves and smothered in dressing. I took one bite and pushed it aside. Then someone from the kitchen in an apron (not our waiter) brought our meals. Mine was like soup. I couldn’t even cut the pasta or chicken without the sauce pouring over the bowl and flying onto the table and our glasses and the floor. It tasted ok, but it tastes “ok” at Olive Garden or from a jar. So I eat a few bites and finally the waiter comes and still doesn’t ask us how anything is, so I ask for the check. He comes back and I tell him I have a message for the manager. I tell him about my “soup” and about my white wilted salad.

He says: Well we’re a new restaurant.

HA

I said: No you’re not.

He said: We’ve only been here since May.

I said: That’s six months. Just tell your manager what I said.

A few minutes later a woman comes out and says: I understand you didn’t like your dinner?

I said: no I didn’t.

She says: Well I find that hard to believe because we ALL ate that tonight and it was good.

I said: It tasted ok, but it was too soupy. (John tells her how I couldn’t cut it without splashing it, etc.)

She says: well some people like it thin and some people like it thick.

I said: Look I don’t care if it’s thick or thin, I’m telling you it was like a bowl of soup and I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t as bad as the salad. I ordered a ceasar salad and expected a plate of green romaine lettuce, but what I got was white and yellow wilted lettuce, that wasn’t a ceasar salad.

She said: yes it was. That’s how our supplier sells it to us, in a bag, just like that.

I said: That’s between you and your supplier, I can get a green ceasar salad at Wendy’s. I don’t why you’re arguing with me, I didn’t like it and it wasn’t a ceasar salad, just bring me the check.

And she says: ok we’ll take your comments into consideration.

The waiter brings the check and it just has the pizza and drinks, my dinner is not on there. So we tipped the waiter way more than he deserved, because he sucked too, and we left. I won’t go there again. Another restaurant that will be closed before too long. Everybody thinks they can open a restaurant and focus on pretty decor and flat screen tvs, and they forget about the food and the service.

Another disappointing night alone!

What the hell did he cook?

Breeder came into work the other day and tells me he’s cooking some chicken tortillas for lunch and asks do I want some. I don’t, but I don’t want to be rude, so I say sure that sounds good.

Then he brings me this plate of oh-my-god-I-don’t-know-what-it-is, but it sure as hell can’t be chicken. It was gross and looked something like dogshit. I tried a bite and literally gagged. So I put half of it in my purse and ran to the bathroom to flush it.

When he came back he bragged about what a great cook he is, because he thought that I’d eaten it. I wouldn’t even feed that shit to my dogs!

Penis Party at the Office

Our boss has frequent office parties. After work. And I’m not invited.

I opened the refrigerator to put my lunch inside and saw a half-eaten penis cake left from the weekend. All of the guys were all freaked out by it.

I put some on a plate and went around their offices and said, “Anybody want some penis cake?” I surprised them when I told them I don’t know whether to eat it or suck on it.

A Mad Woman’s Guide to Growing Tomatoes

It’s very simple to plant tomatoes. Instead of throwing away the top of the tomato, recycle it this way:

1. Throw the top of the tomato in a planter filled with dirt.

2. Throw extra seeds in there too.

3. Cross your fingers.

4. Say out loud three times, “Grow bitches”.

5. Wait a few weeks for seedlings.

Saturday Night TV Hell Out to Dinner

We sent the kids off Saturday night and decided to go to a new chain restaurant, sports bar that opened up. I was surrounded by TV hell. I already knew there would be TV’s everywhere, and I didn’t have a problem with that.

But there was a TV on our table. We sat down and it was blasting the news, right between our faces. (I could have stayed home if I wanted to hear that!) We tried to turn it off, but couldn’t figure out how.

I asked the waitress to turn it off, and she goes, “Turn it OFF ?????” Like she’s never heard of that before. She said she can change the channel or turn it down but she can’t turn it off because, “We don’t turn off our TV’s.”

They may not turn off their TV’s but I sure as hell could. I managed to find the plug and unplugged it.

When the waitress came back, she told me that I wasn’t allowed to do that. I told her I couldn’t hear her, because I was deaf from the TV blasting in my ear. A few minutes later, the manager came out and told me customers are not allowed to touch the TV’s. I informed him that if he ever wants to see another woman in his place again, he’d better start making exceptions. He left.

My husband sat there, not saying a word. Coward.

A Maddening Valentine’s Day: Chocolate Barfing

Valentine’s Day is for kids and the naive. It is not special when you’ve been married for 15 years. It’s a day to buy candy and cards for the kids, and then clean it all up afterwards.

We stopped celebrating V-Day after the second month of pregnancy. That probably had something to do with me barfing up the entire chocolate dessert at the last nice restaurant we visited. I’ve never been able to eat chocolate cake again.

How a Mad Woman gets sparkling clean Dishes

I don’t know about you, but every time someone else in my household loads the dishwasher, it’s all wrong. Bowls piled on top of each other, wine glasses on the bottom rack, spoons stuck together. What is the point of wasting water? I found a new way to get the dishes sparkling clean without even having to turn the dishwasher “on”!

Photo explains it all.

Does a Mad Woman get what she asks for? Not quite.

All I ask is that you please load the dishwasher before I get home. And this is what I get.

A Mad Woman’s Guide to getting FREE Tupperware

How does a mad woman get FREE Tupperware? Well, it might not exactly be Tupperware brand, but it is plastic and it works. So how do you get free plastic containers just like Tupperware?

Four words: Chinese food take out

(Or is it three? Chinese food takeout)

With real Tupperware, you worry that something might happen to them. But these free little containers are great, because you don’t have to worry about them getting used to catch lizards or getting lost in the garage and filled with paint or screws. And if they get left at school or work, who cares? They’re free.

Gourmet Shopping by a Mad Woman

I don’t buy gourmet foods or special things unless I am getting ready to bake or go to a special party that requires a covered dish, like this weekend for a Christmas party. With that being said, anyone with common sense would notice that mascarpone cheese is not commonly found in our refrigerator, nor are chocolate chips. The conversation goes something like this:

“Why did you eat that mascarpone cheese?”

“The what?”

“The mascarpone! I was supposed to make tiramisu for the party this weekend!”

“I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t think to ask? I never ever buy it. Why would I buy it for you to eat in one sitting?”

“It says you can use it as butter or cream cheese.”

“It’s four dollars for a tiny tub of mascarpone! It’s not supposed to be used on crackers! And what happened to the chocolate chips I bought?”

“They’ve been in there for two weeks.”

“So what? I bought them to make cookies, and they were on sale! I don’t have enough now to make cookies for the party this weekend!”

“Well you didn’t tell me.”

“Why do I have to tell you NOT to eat obvious ingredients? We have a whole bag of apples. Why can’t you eat those instead?”