The other night I decided to make nachos as a celebratory meal for finishing a Tuesday well done. And also because I feel less pathetic cooking dinner for one (plus cats) when it’s a featured item on the Chili’s menu.
Some people think “nachos” and this is what is brought to their imagination:
whoever made this is a miracle worker of culinary proportions
I make a less traditional nacho, comprised of only two ingredients:
This is more my speed
After throwing those into the broiler there are some that might diligently wait by the oven and wait for the cheese to melt and then proceed with feasting. But I am not some, and instead walked to my local 7-11 to get additional grocery-like supplies.
I returned to a miniature conflagration in my kitchen.
Since I paid attention in grade school I knew that I needed to get a fire extinguisher right quick. I ran to my hallway to grab it and that is where I found:
Happy 2013!
As it turns out, a fire extinguisher two years expired doesn’t work on a molten mass of flaming triscuits. So I did what any person would do. I grabbed six towels, opened the window, and threw the firey food into the softly falling snow.
And then I left a PSA where the expired fire extinguisher used to be for my landlord to see
Oh hey! There was hurricane throughout the East Coast from Sunday to Tuesday of last week. Did you hear about this? Gotta tell you, I ignored every single news report of it because my evil Canadian overlord (see: my job) almost assuredly wouldn’t close. I prepared for the hurricane as the best little You Life I could be. I went to the dollar store and got the essentials:
cat food – look at how fucking terrified that cat is, also 30% protein? Amazing. Cat litter – for cartoon animals
And diet coke.
Sunday night I was lounging when I got a call that indicated that the East Coast was going to fall into the ocean: my office was closed. Perhaps I should have purchased a candle? Nope – let the rains come.
The beginning of the hurricane stay-vaction
On Monday I woke up to a gray sky, but nothing that indicated to me that the gods’ were wrathful. After waking up, going back to sleep, waking up again, and then trying to make a cup of coffee from an espresso machine that I forgot I stole from a cunty ex-roommate I was up. Starving. Bored.
So I assessed the following two things: the secret reserves in the apartment
This is for the end times. The secret storage of candy, syrup, and strawberry fluff
And how it looked outside:
Let’s be frank. There is only so much reading, movie watching, hobby-doing, and masturbating that a person can do in one day. At around two I had enough. I left the apartment to walk to get food. Nothing was open. So then, I did what any adult would do.
I went to see how terrifying the playground was during the hurricane
Shortly after going on the swings a police officer drove by and gave me a very stern tongue lashing pertaining to the idiocy of wandering around during a storm.
Returned home.
Sent this text message to my best friend after the lights started flickering:
“I better not have to wank off by candle light” (it would be like jerking off during Little House of the Prairie times. I want to crank it with all of the modern amenities).
Hunger took over. So I did what I needed to do…
I defrosted the chocolate bunnies from Easter, seven months earlier, and covered them in Cupcake magic shell for dinner
Sadness. Utter sadness.
Finally a friend without power came over with the barest of cooking supplies (defrosted chicken thighs, a mini pan, rice, and rum). Seeing as how I don’t own any of the following: cooking oil, a pot, utensils, or a pan it was going to be a trial to cook both the chicken and rice. But, since I am a bit of a fucking wizard I made an entire meal using the smallest frying pan known to man and an iron skillet that was so large that it could have cooked me. I steamed the rice in the skillet with a pizza box. INDUSTRIOUSNESS.
While cooking this a Queen song played in the background. What is covering the bitty frying pan? A metal pizza “stone” …rust side up.
Tuesday:
Tried to sleep in. With great success
Played SNES for hours
In the battle for Kirby dominance I told Happy Brother Senior to eat an entire bag of dicks and finished the victor.
And then it all de-evolved after the second entire day without leaving the apartment. It de-evolved into me creating this “mojito” mix that I think was a code for rat poison. It called to fill a plastic bucket with warm water, this neon green powder, and rum. Later on that day I could be found amongst the piles of VHS tapes in my apartment, eating the slushy poison out of a bucket, dancing to the last song from the credits in Legend.
No seriously, Tangerine Dream is fucking out of this world amazing.
And that is how I survived.
Because I was fine. And my love was strong enough.
Hearts, and flowers, and posi vibes to those not as ridiculously fortunate as me.
Anyone who knows me has heard my undying hatred for pandas. I think they are the most passive aggressive animals that ever existed; I am entirely confused as to why we don’t let these little bastards just throw themselves, and their beary girth, into extinction.
I liked drawing an angry panda because I feel as though that’s what pandas are like under their placid demeanor, they burn with a secret rage because people won’t let them just kill themselves off. They refuse to fuck in the wild, they abandon their young in the small chance that they do copulate, and they are non-carnivorous bears. WHAT OTHER HINTS DO WE NEED?
…that being said I want to go to the Wolong panda reserve to let a baby panda hug train get run on me
You life is not so great 