Only half of us were home tonight, me and The Boy, and I was enjoyingish a bowl of ramen noodles while he had leftover peddi (spaghetti). With my hurty jaw, it was almost the right thing, though I'm not sure how much chewing of noodles occured as opposed to just mashing them lightly before they slipped down the gullet.
After scanning the channels on the television, I settled on the newest Blue Collar comedy show and listened to Jeff Foxworthy giving his fashion rules. One of his rules had something to do with tattoos, though I forget now exactly what he said. Tip to other bloggers, sometimes you should write the shit down so you don't forget if you won't be posting right away. More likely that's a tip for me, but it's out there now.
Regardless of the exactness, Foxworthy said something to the effect of not everyone should have a tattoo. The Boy replied immediately to say, "Everyone should have tattoos you idiot," speaking of course to Mr. Foxworthy. I'm sure I don't know who teaches my kids to use words like idiot, but I'm glad he didn't call him worse, like a douche bag or asshole.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
wanted bacon, got a banana
Momma was nice enough to let me sleep in this morning, though when I say nice enough, the niceness was probably being nice to herself in not dealing with me as she attempted to awake me. She was also nice enough to be cooking a real breakfast, pancakes, eggs and bacon.
I ate everything including most of the bacon, but I left my last piece. I didn't want too much digestion going on as it was very close to time for my soccer game. I intended to eat it after returning home from the game, and I was rather looking forward to it. The Boy ended up getting it, but not because I didn't want it.
I did want that bacon, and I attempted to eat it. The one bite I got was excruciating.
You may not think this is a soccer story, but all good things end up being about soccer in the end. My team played pretty well today. Our front line is still passing well, and we out shot the other team by a very wide margin. Their one goal came off a muddle in the box which is how we've given up most of our goals this season. We've won our third game in a row, no thanks to a referee that just didn't seem to like us much. The game was mostly clean, but there were really just too many little calls that either didn't go our way or were missed entirely.
One call that didn't go our way was against me. An opponent and I were charging for a loose ball and were pretty dead even. I pulled out the defensive ace, the slide tackle, and launched myself feet first into the ball. It was a clean play if a little rough. We got to the ball at the same time, but my tackle took the other guy down. He came down right on top of me with a little elbow in the side of my jaw.
I've felt the jaw, pushed it and pulled it, wiggled it, opened and closed it. It doesn't hurt in its normal resting position. It doesn't hurt very much to open or close. Where it does hurt is closing it with any force, force such as it would take to eat a piece of bacon.
The bacon went to The Boy, and I got to eat a banana. Sure, my body needs the potassium more than it needs that lovely, smoky fat and meat and saltiness, but dammit, I wanted the bacon. My options for food as the night progresses seem limited at this moment to ramen noodles. They take slightly more chewing than the banana and somewhat less than the spaghetti that is my other reasonable option. I've also considered peanut butter and jelly, but I don't know that there is enough peanut butter for that, and I've got a feeling there may be some peanut butter graham crackers in The Boy's future. He's already decided against going to derby practice, opting instead to stay home with me and watch a movie, and he's refused all the leftovers in the house.
I don't know what is wrong with my jaw, aside from having a grown man land elbow first on it. I do know that it don't feel too pretty, and I'm dreading the later evening when I'm even hungrier and have already had the ramen.
I ate everything including most of the bacon, but I left my last piece. I didn't want too much digestion going on as it was very close to time for my soccer game. I intended to eat it after returning home from the game, and I was rather looking forward to it. The Boy ended up getting it, but not because I didn't want it.
I did want that bacon, and I attempted to eat it. The one bite I got was excruciating.
You may not think this is a soccer story, but all good things end up being about soccer in the end. My team played pretty well today. Our front line is still passing well, and we out shot the other team by a very wide margin. Their one goal came off a muddle in the box which is how we've given up most of our goals this season. We've won our third game in a row, no thanks to a referee that just didn't seem to like us much. The game was mostly clean, but there were really just too many little calls that either didn't go our way or were missed entirely.
One call that didn't go our way was against me. An opponent and I were charging for a loose ball and were pretty dead even. I pulled out the defensive ace, the slide tackle, and launched myself feet first into the ball. It was a clean play if a little rough. We got to the ball at the same time, but my tackle took the other guy down. He came down right on top of me with a little elbow in the side of my jaw.
I've felt the jaw, pushed it and pulled it, wiggled it, opened and closed it. It doesn't hurt in its normal resting position. It doesn't hurt very much to open or close. Where it does hurt is closing it with any force, force such as it would take to eat a piece of bacon.
The bacon went to The Boy, and I got to eat a banana. Sure, my body needs the potassium more than it needs that lovely, smoky fat and meat and saltiness, but dammit, I wanted the bacon. My options for food as the night progresses seem limited at this moment to ramen noodles. They take slightly more chewing than the banana and somewhat less than the spaghetti that is my other reasonable option. I've also considered peanut butter and jelly, but I don't know that there is enough peanut butter for that, and I've got a feeling there may be some peanut butter graham crackers in The Boy's future. He's already decided against going to derby practice, opting instead to stay home with me and watch a movie, and he's refused all the leftovers in the house.
I don't know what is wrong with my jaw, aside from having a grown man land elbow first on it. I do know that it don't feel too pretty, and I'm dreading the later evening when I'm even hungrier and have already had the ramen.
screwdriver booty
Does that title make sense to you? Does the thought of screwdriver booty give you pause? Do you want to know the story behind screwdriver booty? File this under can't make this shit up. Seriously, click HERE.
Motherfucking screwdriver-butt, monkey-spanking crazy ass shit!
Motherfucking screwdriver-butt, monkey-spanking crazy ass shit!
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