Count Jackula excels at a lot of things, raising two exceptionally good-looking kids, turning a blind eye when his awesome kids act like jerks in public and cooking meat to perfection. I’m staying with Mama Cat and The Count all week. I’m pretty excited over the meals that are about to come my way. Tonight he took it upon himself to make a pre-dinner steak, enjoy the pictures of my steak cooking lesson.
Starting it off on the meat searer.
Once the grill reaches 500, throw the meat on.
The finishing touches. I just wanted to point out that my mom actually made a pizza for dinner last night. This steak was a warm up because my Dad was in the mood for meat.
I have a new neighbor living above me, I have yet to meet he or she but I already know way WAY too much as it is. Such as they enjoy listening to Boys II Men on a Saturday morning before doing it. On Saturday afternoons they enjoy listening to Monifa while they do it. But last night, was the last straw. They enjoyed the musical lyrics of R. Kelly before doing it in their bedroom directly above my living room. I’m trying to eat my bedtime sandwich and I can’t. Not because I’m grossed out by their sexual sounds, but because I have to listen to that “alleged” child molester R.Kelly singing about being trapped in a closet and being on the fifth floor. Here are some examples of the sweet rhymes I had to put up with last night.
Bitch please, you’ve got your nerves
With all your club hoppin’, lyin’ when you said you was shoppin
Then I’m like woman I called this house .And a man picked up my phone. Then she said calm down. Did you forget? My brother Twan came home.
I count to three, Twan opened the door and it’s Rose the nosy neighbor…Ooh, with a spatula in her hand
Do I actually have to remind people that R. Kelly once took a pee on a 14-year-old girl???
Basketball is my favorite sport. I like the way they dribble up and down the court. Just like I’m the King on the microphone so is Dr. J and Moses Malone… Now this is the kind of jam I could get busy too.
I’m not looking for a relationship at this point in my life. I’m actually quite happy being alone. However, think I may have found a man! Friday evening while kickin’ back on grandpa’s old cough medicineon The Lower Deck patio I spotted my dream man . He was heading into the Marriott carrying a six-pack of Diet Pepsi and a box of sour cream glazed Timbits. The only problem is he weighs a good 400 pounds and I find him completely sexually repulsive.
God, is it too much to ask for a semi physically fit man who wants to spend Friday night drinking Diet Pepsi and eating doughnuts in bed with me?
Oh and I also want a guy with a job. Not like a discount wear house shitty job though, a good one.
I don’t know how I have lived in a home with a television for 28 years and I’m just now finding out about The Gary Coleman Show . I also don’t know how I have managed to hold my current job down for the past three years given the immense amount of time I spend on YouTube looking for Gary Coleman montage during the work day.
This show has it all. A stereotypical 1950’s black man, a villain who looks like a child molester and a young Gary Coleman before he became old washed-up and angry Gary Coleman! This is exactly how I picture Gary in heaven.
Sometimes when I’m feeling a little dowdy and want to feel better about myself, I go to Michael’s craft store. It’s not everyday I can say I’m the prettiest girl in the room. That place is a sea of women in their late 20’s early 30’s wearing Northern Reflection sweaters featuring a kitten sitting in a watering can. I seriously wish that place could turn into some sort of after hour’s night club or maybe all the women in there could go out to whatever bar I plan on visiting that evening.
Have you seen how women in this city dress when they go out? I can’t compete with those hot sluts! A short skirt combined with my John Belushi style of drunkenness would only end in disaster.
That’s right boys, I have the liver of a 33-year-old alcohol and drug addicted man.
So, it’s the second day of summer and I already have a rant lined up. I really should have called this blog White Bitch Rants. Ladies, if you can’t walk to work in your high heels, buy a pair of flats like the rest of the adults. Seriously nothing ruins an outfit like a giant pair of sneakers on your feet.
And while I’m at it, dress for the weather. I’m just wondering who people think they are sticking it to by going to the beach in a pair of corduroy pants and a mohair sweater. Oh look at you standing up to the man, all uncomfortable and over heating. You’re the summer equivalent to a mall skank who stands outside smoking during the winter in a tank top. That’s not to say you should buy a bunch of dresses with strategically placed rips either. But properly fitting shorts and a t-shirt never hurt anyone.