Thankfully I have two things going for me this year that haven't happened before. First, the Pats are on a bye, which means that even though I'm still pumped to watch football all day, it's more of a carefree feeling. Like yeah, I'm still excited, but there's not as much of that anxious "LET'S FUCKING GO!" feeling that usually accompanies my Sunday mornings. So that's good. Hey Goodell, you put the Pats bye on daylight savings day every year and I'll, well, I'll do something. And second, Wifey is pregnant, which means that she wanted to go back to sleep right after we had breakfast. And that leaves ME time to fuck around and play video games and play with my balls. Excellent.
Speaking of pregnant Wifey, and breakfast, I'm an awesome husband. I do a shitload of household chores, I clean, I go food shopping, all that shit, but most importantly, I cook. And I'm a damn good cook. But sometimes that leads to annoying shit like this...
Me - "What do you want for breakfast?"
Wifey - "Um, I don't know."
Me - "God dammit woman, pick something!"
Wifey - "Ok I want scrambled eggs with tomatoes, bacon, and biscuits?"
Me - "Biscuits? I don't know how to do that."
Wifey - "You're a good cook. I'm sure you can figure it out with Bisquick or something."
Fuck. Now, not only do I have to run out to White Hen to grab some stupid tomatoes since I forgot them when I went shopping yesterday, but now I have to make fucking biscuits. As it turns out, biscuits are quite easy to make. Well, at least for a fucking master chef like myself, but still, quite easy. But what happens when my reputation as master chef calls for a more complicated recipe? Well, I'll tell you what happens, I'm gonna fucking own that shit and whip up some perfection. But it's going to a be a pain in the ass, which is the whole point.
Anyway, this is the shit that's gonna be posted when I have way too much time to kill before the games start. Fucking daylight savings time. You are worthless to me now.
