IS IT ALREADY NOT FRIDAY AGAIN?
How often does this happen? Too often, I think. I was thinking some other things and have decided to share them with you, my very large audience.
- All clumsy people should be sent to space immediately!
Not as a punishment or anything, but we could really use a lack of gravity. I have recently broken 2 bowls, a soap dish, and several promises. I would love to be able to shop at Pottery Barn (#ad), but I just know all those hundred dollar trinkets don’t stand a chance at a long life in my home. If I were in space, I would never fall or fumble. I would simply float around with all my expensive crockery without a care in the world. I deserve this.
- Why can’t we cry over spilt milk?
Is this a formal rule? A law? A mere suggestion? Look, I am trying to raise my daughter right. I have explained to her the dangers of watching R-rated movies, I have not yet let her touch fire, and I encourage her to not swallow rocks. Rocks are friends, not food!
But even I, the world’s most perfect mother, struggle to explain why she isn’t allowed to cry over spilt milk. Spill some water? Feel free to bawl your eyes out, kid. Spill some soup? That’s how rivers were made. Best practice is to check which liquid has been spilled before crying, just to avoid any dicey situations.
I’m not sure if this applies to coconut milk. Soy? Flaxseed? OAT? And how are we supposed to hold back our tears? Who created this lawless law?! I would like to speak to the manager!
- Why is breakfast so special?
You can eat these specified foods at any time of the day and be cool. Normal morning breakfast. Brunch. Brinner. Yes, please! But Lord help you if you want to eat dinner foods for breakfast. You want a sandwich? Best be putting some eggs and/or bacon on that bad boy, unless you want everyone to know you’re a PSYCHOPATH.
Now, let’s just say you had a glorious slumber and wake up craving pie. No one will judge you. That’s BREAKFAST. Whether it’s 9 a.m. or 9 p.m, you are free to enjoy your little slice of heaven. But let’s just say you have finished your dinner (consisting of strictly dinner foods today) and are now craving a pancake. Slow your roll, man. Your treat will have to wait until the sun rises. Pancakes have never been and will never be dessert!
- Would Gordon Ramsay think I’m an idiot sandwich?
Let’s look at the facts:
-I once burned top ramen. You can’t judge me. It’s an easy mistake to make.
-I only know what creme fraiche is because of South Park. Fine, I don’t fully understand. It goes in eggs? On pie? So…it’s a breakfast food?
-I sometimes (often…) mistake cumin for cinnamon. They both start with C. They are both brown. It really isn’t my fault.
The jury’s out on this one. Perhaps Gordon Ramsay would consider me to be something a bit lighter, like an idiot salad.
- If I had unlimited funds, I would hire a choir to follow me around and reiterate everything I say in song form.
Me, to a nice employee at Bed, Bath, and Beyond: “Um, excuse me? Where do you guys keep your hot pink bath towels? I looked all over the kitchen section but…”
Choir: “But she still hasn’t found
What she’s looking for
But she still hasn’t found
What she’s looking for.”
Not only will this bring endless entertainment and joy, but it will also create jobs for unemployed artists. I will hire Coco Chanel (Reese Witherspoon’s dog, of course) and former rapper Vanilla Ice (primarily for backstage work) as well as a few other misfits. It’ll be a real Sister Act situation.
Unfortunately, in order to get my unlimited funds, unlimited entertainment, and unlimited joy, I will need to marry rich. Please tell the husband I will miss him. Mr. Google is calling my name…
That’s all, folks! It’s time for me to devour some lunch foods at lunch time. I’ve just never been fancy enough for brunch. A virgin screwdriver is just orange juice, after all.
See you next Not Friday! But not the immediate next one. Or the second one. Or the one after that.