Won't you eat my sleazy pancakes just for saintly Alphonzo?
Today is Friday. Which, coincidentally, is named after my kitten. Or whatever.
Tonight I had a little shopping to do, which first took me to PetSmart, a store which should more rightfully be named I know you just came in for a bag of litter, but I also know you'll leave with a cartload of treats and toys for the little bastards. I managed to escape with a little money and even less dignity, so I decided to stop at Target as long as I was there. Come on - it was right there, and as a woman, do I really need an excuse to stop at Target?
While I was cruising the grocery section for club soda (I don't know why, but I've been on a major club soda kick lately - tingly yet tasteless...like head from a leper), I saw some things that I thought might be good for an effortless dinner that didn't come from Pizza Hut (which is often where my dinner comes from when I'm left to my own devices). This was the ultimate no-dishes, lazy, easy-to-prep dinner: some tomato soup in one of those microwaveable bowls, and a pouch full of albacore tuna.
As I finished the last bite of tuna and the final spoonful of soup, it dawned on me that I had just eaten the perfect Catholic dinner on a Friday. Tomato soup and fish - the quintessential Lenten meal (yes, I know it's not Lent, but old-school Catholics ate like this on Fridays year 'round). I always wondered if all that childhood conditioning would one day come back to bite me in the ass. What's next? Guitar mass? Stations of the Cross? Confession?
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been thirty years since my last confession. I sure hope you're sitting down, 'cause this'll take a while..."
Tonight I had a little shopping to do, which first took me to PetSmart, a store which should more rightfully be named I know you just came in for a bag of litter, but I also know you'll leave with a cartload of treats and toys for the little bastards. I managed to escape with a little money and even less dignity, so I decided to stop at Target as long as I was there. Come on - it was right there, and as a woman, do I really need an excuse to stop at Target?
While I was cruising the grocery section for club soda (I don't know why, but I've been on a major club soda kick lately - tingly yet tasteless...like head from a leper), I saw some things that I thought might be good for an effortless dinner that didn't come from Pizza Hut (which is often where my dinner comes from when I'm left to my own devices). This was the ultimate no-dishes, lazy, easy-to-prep dinner: some tomato soup in one of those microwaveable bowls, and a pouch full of albacore tuna.
As I finished the last bite of tuna and the final spoonful of soup, it dawned on me that I had just eaten the perfect Catholic dinner on a Friday. Tomato soup and fish - the quintessential Lenten meal (yes, I know it's not Lent, but old-school Catholics ate like this on Fridays year 'round). I always wondered if all that childhood conditioning would one day come back to bite me in the ass. What's next? Guitar mass? Stations of the Cross? Confession?
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been thirty years since my last confession. I sure hope you're sitting down, 'cause this'll take a while..."
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 10:45 PM
16 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
My confession would take a while, too, Bucky. The first sin I would confess is gleefully eating roast beef on Friday... just because I can.
And with that last sentence, God chimes in "Bucky, I already know about all of it. I don't BAH-LEEVE it, but I know it."
Good Lord, Bucky, if you decide to return to “the Faith” I am glad I am a Protestant minister and not a Catholic priest who could hear your confession: you’ll be in the confessional for at least three weeks.
I think it's sad that lepers don't have a sense of taste when getting head.
I still like tomato soup with tuna. Tomato soup also reminds me of going to the dentist as a kid. We always had to have fillings and tomato soup didn't involve any chewing.
You are spoiling those kitties, aren't you?
"Bless me father for I have sinned..." heh, heh... I used to recite that one back when I still went to confession every week with my grocery list of kiddie sins. If I had to do it now, it would start out with, "Bless me father, for I have sinned. I haven't told the truth in decades, so get ready..."
And, Bucky, how many Hail Marys would that confession set you back?
Petsmart and Target in the same mall - I've got that here. Lethal combination; clearly a retail conspiracy.
Lynn - I think most lives worth living would be worth hours in the confessional.
CKelli - Yeah, I've always wondered why we gotta confess to a priest when God already sees our naughtiness.
SS Nick - You'd have to bring a lunch. Several lunches.
Mr. B - I have absolutely no idea what I meant by that phrase, but that never stops me from writing shit down. I just want you guys to be as confused as I am.
Squirl - I remember lots of pudding after a dentist visit. And milkshakes.
But why would you think I'd spoil cats? I don't even really like animals.
Ortizzle - Maybe it would be best if you just typed up an executive summary and slid it through the little window.
Squirl - I think my sins are beyond Hail Marys. I'd probably have to go and personally apologize to Mary.
HTGT - you know they plan that shit just for suckahs like us. And there's also a Long John Silver's close by, so I can get my grease on after I shop.
The "worst" combo is LJS and Taco Bell... and it's WAY too close to where I work.
Nice new header...not boring like the last one. LMAO... ;)
I always wanted to be catholic just so I could go to confession once. I mean, how cool would that be? Just go recite a list or something and *pow* you're forgiven! Protestant kids get ripped off in that department. Forgiveness is like the holy grail for us -- no one's quite sure it exists. Tell ya what, if I convert, we can go to confession together. That will mess with the priest's head for some time.
And by "mess with the priest's head" I didn't actually intend the naughty school girl implication, but now that I see it, I'm giggling.
CKelli - now THAT is a recipe for diarrhea, cha cha cha!
Hellokittn - well, at 39 cents apiece, they're pricey cat toys, but what baby wants, baby gets.
Milkmaid - I was visited by the spirits of Beavis and Butthead.
Because diarrhea is NEVER boring.
Eclectic - I don't think we need to worry unless we turn into adorable altar boys.
We share the love of diarrhea, cha cha cha!
I still remember that blogpost when I discovered you, and we were trying to decide how much (exactly) is Too Much Diarrhea when it comes to lounging in the hot tub!
Girl.A - did we ever come up with a precise scientific formula for that?
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