Everyone needs a fleet of flying monkeys to rip the stuffing out of the annoying people in their lives
— Laura

1. Denial.

I was all “No way. This is just some National Enquirer bullshit.”

2. Anger.

Then I was all “THAT MOTHERFUCKIN’ LIAR! HE SAID HE’D NEVER MARRY!”

3. Bargaining.

Then I was all “If only he would had met me first!” and I asked God to turn back time like in that Superman movie where he flew backwards around the Earth, except this would be God and he wouldn’t have to fly because, duh, he’s God.

4. Depression.

Then I was all “God doesn’t care. No one cares. Superman wouldn’t even care.”

5. Acceptance.

Then I was all “Oh well, that’s that. He’s married.”

6. Revenge.

 

P.S.  J just called me and was all “Laura, there’s only five stages of loss and grief and revenge isn’t one of them.” And I was all “Shut your whore mouth, it’s MY stages and that’s one of them!” Then he laughed a nervous Nazi laugh.

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George and his wifey WHORE. Whatever happened to "I'll never marry", you LYING BASTARD!?!

I know I haven’t been blogging lately, and I don’t know when I will exactly. Right now I’m over here crying into a gallon container of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Häagen-Dazs listening to Air Supply’s ‘All Out of Love’ on my iPod on repeat. As soon as I’m strong enough to switch-up to Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’, I will return once more to spew my insanity here. Now excuse me whilst I go get another serving spoon for my ice cream. I broke the other in a hysterical fit of rage accidently.

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I saw this dish being made on Triple D, on what else but The Food Network, and decided to make it. I found the video on line and then kind of concocted my own measurements because none were given. It turned out really, really well and is quite tender and delicious. You would think with all that spice it would be practically inedible, but nothing could be further from the truth. I will definitely make this again. I’m adding it to my list of ‘Exotic Food I Will Make Every Couple of Weeks Especially Since I Didn’t Contract Ebola From It.’

North African Chicken

1/2 cup cumin
1/2 cup dried oregano
2 TBS kosher salt
2 TBS ground black pepper
1/2 cup minced garlic
olive oil
1 young chicken, 3 to 4 pounds, quartered
3 oranges
3 lemons

Preheat oven to 500° F with rack in center position. Squeeze oranges and lemons. Reserve juice. Cut peel into quarters and reserve. In a small bowl, mix cumin, oregano, salt and pepper. Stir in enough olive oil to make a thick paste. Add garlic and mix thoroughly. Rub chicken with paste, working paste into meat and skin. Heat a large skillet over high heat. Add 2 TBS of olive oil. Brown chicken on both sides for about two minutes. Transfer chicken to a 13? x 9? roasting pan, skin side up. Add reserved citrus peels to skillet and saute for 2 minutes. Stirring occasionally. This will release a ton of flavorful oils from the peels. Transfer peels to roasting pan. Spread evenly across the chicken. Deglaze skillet with citrus juice and a little water. Transfer deglazing liquid to roasting pan. There should be enough to cover the chicken about half way. Place chicken in oven. Roast for 1 hour.

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GOOD. LORD.

Know what those bumps on the ass-end of that gigantic fucking spider in MY POOL are? Those are babies. That’s right. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of baby spiders. IN. MY. POOL. Satan’s Henchmen. Wolf spiders they’re officially called and they are huge. Here’s a picture I found on the interwebs to give you an idea of their size, because I sure as hell wasn’t about to hold it:

We can only assume this person is dead now. RIP, dumbass.

This is what I get for bragging about not seeing any Palmetto Bugs this year. Motherfuckin’ Wolf spiders. Oh, and when I researched them to see if they had any weaknesses I found this:

The Carolina wolf spider (H. carolinensis) is the Official State Spider of South Carolina. Designated as such in 2000, South Carolina is the only U.S. state that recognizes a state spider.

That’s right. I live in and bought my dream house in the only state that has A FUCKING STATE SPIDER. Oy.

Now excuse me while I go google ‘Flamethrower for sale’ and upgrade my homeowner’s policy.

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