Five Things I Imagine Hell Consists Of

1) OU Fans speaking. 

2) Wearing new tennis shoes and the entire floor is covered in dog shit. 

3) Hungry, lonely cats. Cats that are constantly meowing because they’re hungry. Cats that follow you around and rub against you because they want you to pet them.

4) A karaoke machine with Blake Shelton’s Greatest hits but you open to find someone has replaced the music with Montgomery Gentry songs. 

5) Warm beer and raw fish. 

Sleep Tight

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite” 

As a kid, whenever I heard this statement I thought it was just one of those stupid things old people say. Like pretend things, like “Santa Claus is watching you.” Or “Did the tooth fairy come see you?” Or “Jesus is white.” Ok no one ever told me Jesus is white; just seeing if you were paying attention.
When it was time for bed, you probably had some kind of routine. Before I went to bed and heard the “Sleep tight, don’t let the.. etc.” I had to brush my teeth. Depending on what tooth paste flavor I had at the time would determine how well I brushed my teeth. If it was something yucky, I would try and trick and my dad into thinking I brushed them. With gross toothpaste, I would try to get away with minimum brushing. I did this a variety of ways, still spending enough time in the bathroom for my dad to think tooth brushing was taking place. Some nights, I would let the water run and flick my toothbrush under the water. Maybe splash a little splash on the mirror for fun. Sometimes I would squeeze some toothpaste off in the sink. To later try and prove to my dad “See I did brush my teeth. Feel my toothbrush, it’s wet. Look some toothpaste fell in the sink.” I should’ve been in the Gifted and Talented program. I was practically a child-genius or a sociopath. Sometimes I would just brush my teeth without toothpaste. Each night I would try to mix it up. Then my dad would always check my teeth. Many a fights happened before bed time that were teeth brushing related. I would always have to go back and brush them; sometimes being directly monitored. That house was a prison. Probably wasted years off my life brushing/rebrushing my teeth. Ok not years, definitely 20 minutes.. This problem could’ve been easily solved if kids’ toothpaste didn’t taste like minty, bubble-gum dinosaur-asshole. Why can’t someone invent a regular toothpaste for kids that maybe doesn’t have a taste or tastes like gatorade or something? 

Sorry off topic. Back to bed bugs. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite?” Real funny old people. Everyone knows bugs don’t live in human beds. Bugs belong outside. Bugs do not bite sleeping children. Your bug jokes are stupid.

Little did I know at the time that there was truth to this bed bug warning. I didn’t learn bed bugs were real until I was in college and I saw a news report of bed bugs on mattresses on a college campus. I was like “oh someone must have left their window open, trying to heat the county, and a community of bugs entered the room in the transition and decided to live in a comfy mattress”. Peaceful, friendly, harmless bugs.. NO. Then the news report continued and showed huge pictures of a bed bug. The report continued. It warned everyone of the hell that bed bugs cause daily. It showed real pictures of bed bug bites. Nobody had ever told me bed bugs were real. If they did tell me I probably swore them off as a liar and from that moment I ignored anything they ever said to me. 

Sorry bed bug truthers. Forgive me. I did not know. I don’t feel like it was entirely my fault. It was the old people and their stupid sayings. Old people: maybe you shouldn’t be some damn jokey when referring to bed bugs around children.

BED BUGS ARE REAL.

I Cooked Today.

I cooked today. Not like I took today and cooked it. I mean I grabbed food related materials and tools, and used them to prepare a meal. This event happened on this day. Now I usually cook something everyday or at least 6 days out of the week. On a scale of 1 to 10, one being buttered bread chef and ten being head chef professor at a top notch cooking school I would rank myself a 4. Yea.. let that sink in. I’m pretty good. I can toast that buttered bread real quick. No pun intended. With this ability and excellent skills I like to try new foods to cook and taste. Sometimes it works out and I cook it again for the next three weeks. Sometimes it doesn’t work out and it makes me take the trash out 2 days sooner than I intended. 
Today was one of the good cooking days and I now have some leftovers to eat on for the week. This past week I logged onto the Pinterest website and searched through the food and drink section looking for something that looked good. There was the usual million cupcakes, detox drinks, homemade salsa, and healthy pastas that everyone swears is the “best thing ever”. Not buying in it. I came back to my home page and someone had pinned “Chubby Chicken and Cream Cheese Taquitos.” Pinned it real quick. One of the best decisions I’ve made this summer. 

I took it and made it my own. After all, I am ranked a 4. I don’t have to follow the recipe word for word. Took about 3 cups of cooked chicken and shredded it all up then I threw it in my green mixing bowl. Put 6 oz of cream cheese and 1/3 cup sour cream in the bowl with the chicken. Then I grabbed my favorite salsa and took 1/2 a cup of it and threw it in the green bowl. Then I mixed all that together. Now you can add chopped spinach or shredded cheese or corn or other stuff but I thought it had enough stuff in it. Then you take some flour tortillas about 8 and you fill each one with your chicken mixture and roll it all up tight. When all eight are rolled tight. Take your skillet and just enough pour olive oil or vegetable oil to cover the entire pan. Then turn your stove on low-medium heat. Toss your tortillas into skillet cooking on each side 5-6 minutes until brown and crispy. Put on a paper toweled plate to soak up some of the oil. Then dip in your favorite sauce (sour cream, guacamole, salsa, ranch dressing, etc). BAM. Level four chef. 

I hate cats.

I hate cats.
I do not like them in my house.
I do not like them with a mouse.
I do not like them near my car.
I do not like them in my bar.
I do not like them near my face.
I do not like them in my space.

I would not watch one for a friend.
I would not like one for pretend.
I would not keep one, even for free.
I would not free one, from a tree.
I would not warn one about oncoming fire.
I would not like one in an all cat choir.
I would not like one for my Granny.
I would not like one near my fanny.

I will not like them here.
I will not like them there.
I will not like them anywhere.
I will not like them on a train.
I will not like them in the rain.
I will not like them napping on my sheets.
I will not like them humping on the streets.

I just really don’t like cats that much.

Over You

Within the last 24 hours I lost someone very dear to me. Someone I spent countless summers with. Someone that was always there for me to keep me cool whenever I felt that I was about to get heated. Someone that just knew. Someone that I could trust to hold down the fort while I was out. I’m dedicating this post to that someone. I’ve taken Miranda Lambert’s song “Over You” and adjusted a few of the lyrics for you, A.C. Feel free to sing it out loud. 

Weather man said it’s gonna be hot
By now I should be used to this shit.
June-summer hell shouldn’t feel so scary .
It was only a Sunday
I still remember the vent, the breeze, you and me.

But you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you.
They say a fan’ll be ok.
But I’m not going to ever get over you . 

Living alone here in this place,
I adjust the thermostat, I’m not afraid.
Your auto setting, makes me feel better. 
Cause you auto turn on.
When it gets warm.
I know you didn’t mean to break on me.

But you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you.
They say a fan’ll be ok.
But I’m not going to ever get over you.