humans are funny

Category: lazy

  • Those hoarders are scary. And mashed potatoes are good.

    I guess I took a holiday hiatus. I wasn’t planning on it, but man is it difficult to get anything done when it’s snowy outside and there’s an electric blanket inside. And heat. And TV. I don’t have these things in my apartment.

    I have done nothing this holiday (besides watch that scary show about hoarders and several other shows about home decor and eat mashed potatoes). I am still wearing my pajamas at noon, and I haven’t yet washed my hair. Remember sleeping in? I did it. Remember soups and grilled cheeses? I ate them. Remember not having plans or a to-do list? I pretended I didn’t.

    This is awesome. And comfortable. And amazing. Maybe I should just buy the house I spoke of [here], work at the local deli, earn a pension, and come home nightly to a heated cozy house. Why spend so much time trying to ‘make it’? Bla. Over it. Back to pajamas. For now.

    I’m keeping my electric blanket status until January 3rd. Then back to making it because I might as well try for a little longer. See ya then. In the meantime, here’s a picture of the figgy pudding we made only because it’s in that one holiday song. It tastes like spiced orangey carrot cake, but its brick-like weight explains why it has not been a popular Christmas dish since the 19th century.

    Happy New Year!

  • Sorry, I don’t do manual labor. And I don’t stir.


    I recently saw a commercial for shakeable Bisquick. All you have to do is add water to a bottle of Bisquick, shake it up, and pour it onto the griddle.
    What has happened to our society?
    First there were elevators. Then TV dinners & microwaves, remote controls, garage door openers, and now email. We act like our bodies would implode from exhaustion if we were to actually get up off of the couch and, gasp!, change the channel. And now pancakes are too hard for us? I’ve never heard a mom say, “I’ve done so much for you: I paid for your college tuition, made sure you had a roof over your head, and labored over pancakes every Sunday.”

    Pancakes take 2 ingredients to make. Has the weakened American arm become too fragile to make a circling motion and stir? I doubt it even takes up less energy to shake. Maybe it’s the fact that moms don’t want to wash the bowl? But, wait! Moms have dishwashers for that old chore anyway.
    Life is too convenient for us. No wonder we’re all fat.

    Note: I am writing this from my bed. I’m in here with my remote. And it’s awesome.
    Note#2: I realized I’m being sexist by assuming only moms would be making pancakes. I’m sick of being PC. Imagine it says dad/boyfriend/lover/friend/midget/skinhead/Pole/whoever makes pancakes for you. Capish?