My wife has been in Indiana this past week, visiting her parents (and ignoring mine). While she was away, I've been here playing lots of video games slogging away tirelessly at work and around the house. I've also been sleeping smack in the middle of the bed. Sometimes without pants on!
Oh wait, those types of stories are supposed to be for Thursdays. Sorry.
While I've nearly completed the bestiary on Final Fantasy XII the landscaping around my house, I've also reveled fully in the fact that I can cook and eat pretty much whatever I want, whenever I want. I didn't eat dinner until almost 9 o'clock on Wednesday night. Schedules? Schedules are for pussies.
Tonight, though, I think I'm going to cop out and eat some shitty food...that others have prepared for me. This way I can eat on it in between fighting monsters and trying to get the last of the espersputting on new loads of laundry and working on refurbishing the decks and stairs on the outside of my house. Besides, the wife's out of town; it's my constitutional right--nay, necessity!--to ingest things that are really, really fucking bad for me, right?
To that end, I bring today's Latin lesson:
Pronounced: "Dah mee-hee cease croo-stoom Aye-troosk-oom coom ohm-nee-boose een aye-oh."
Hmmm...for some reason, I think the girls who work at Rudino's would be confused by this order. Or maybe I'll get really lucky, and they'll have a dead languages fetish. You never know...
21 comments:
Man, I love the "wife-is-out-of-town" meal plan. My favorite memory is the 3 inch patty melt I made once out of half a pound on hamburger with melted cheese and carmalized onions. Wow. That hurts my heart just thinking about it.
So, how do you say "without onions"? You never know, you might get free buffet for that shit at Little Caesars.
Can you teach me how to say "Hold the mushrooms as they are clearly Satan's food"?
Damn, I'm hungry now. That pizza looks fantastic...
Mmmm...pizza...
how do you say "I'll have a large Hawaiian thanks"?
Whoever made that pizza was drunk.
There's stuff all over the place.
That pizza looks divine. Enjoy!
... My wife says I should hit you for that little metaphor of yours.
Please describe in detain what your gallbladderless digestive tract will think of you scarfing that badboy down.
I suggest going to a neighbor's house, because that's not something you'll want to unleash in your own house.
I think I just had a small coronary just looking at that pizza. Good thing the wife is out of town so you can have that wonderful beast all to yourself. (Tell the kids they can get their own food~ this one's yours!)
@ Chemgeek: I get all tingly just reading about that Patty Melt. Especially my left arm.
@ Kimizzy: That would be "cum non cepae".
@ Anna: Let's go with "Obtines fungi; ecce ei sunt cibus diabolus." Although that might be the wrong declensions on the nouns.
@ Eric: Heart-stoppingly so. I figured you might appreciate that the Latin for "pizza" is literally "bread of the Estrucans."
@ red: mmmm...red... I mean, mmm...pizza. *shifty-eyed*
@ Soda & Candy: Last one: "da mihi crustum Etruscum maximum Insulae Rutupiae."
@ Zibbs: Or maybe they just slung ingredients everywhere. I prefer very little crust, myself.
@ Gwen: I'd invite you over for some, but I'm going to guess that it might be cold by the time you get here. Or devoured.
@ Jidai: That was the most brilliant thing I've written since I came up with a Latin translation for "el chupacabra".
@ Scope: I'm on septic, so, yeah, that's probably a deadly bit of strain to be putting on my system.
Also, I think the description would be something akin to "throwing a watermelon into a wood chipper". If you must know.
@ Lisa's Chest: Oh, how I've missed you. Oh, crap, you brought the rest of her with you! Hi.
Kids are in South Bend with the wife. Which means I'm the only one who is going to enjoy the afterparty that this baby creates in my stomach.
I was married to the kind of man that would stand at the kitchen door and give "advice" about how to cook...but never cooked a damn thing during our marriage. 2 years divorced now and I would give up cooking all together...except my kids prefer hot food now and then...sigh.
that pizza looks like the aftermath of some serious road kill.
From Lisa's Chest ~ thanks for the welcome back. Yeah, we tried to ditch the rest of her, but it appears this is a packaged deal.
Don't look now, but I think you order that with extra raccoon entrails.
Seriously...what's the long pink shit?
I think it is a requirement of guys left to their own devices to eat bad-for-you-foods. And food is way more sinful sounding when you order it in latin. ;)
--snow
Also, is it wrong that I am the bad eater when left to my own devices, whereas hubby probably cooks better for himself than if he ever cooked for both of us?
Funny, because I have a husband-is-out-of-town meal plan which includes lots of chicken nuggets for the kid and cereal for me. I hate cooking.
Glad I stumbled on your blog. I'll bet you've got tomato sauce all over your keyboard.
Since Mot primarily does all the cooking at our house, I'm guessing the food isn't much different when I'm gone.
Although, he tends to forget to eat more often than not.
Eating schedules are thrown out the window...so if he's getting fuel for the car when hunger strikes him, he assures me the gas station burritos are wonderful.
(shaking my head)
pizza ??
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