Spaghetti & Meatballs

Yesterday, I was making sketti and meatballs for Prue for when she came home from work. Yeah, she doesn't eat meat, but I did the meatballs seperate from the sauce. So, it was all good, until I found that the can opener sucked a giant, annoying ass. So, I found a remedy, and I even took pictures for your educational benefit.

Exhibit 1: Tomatoes. A Can Of.

This is a 400ML can of diced tomatoes I needed to add to the base sauce. DAMN YOU, EVIL CAN!! DAMN YOU!!!!!!!!!

But, all is saved! I was first confused by my enemy -- the can of tomatoes. But, I knew I could easily open the evil bastard via the lifting lid acompanies all civilized canned food. See exhibit #2Exhibit #2: "The Easy & Awesome Can" (Note: Can is from American website... not Australian, because Australians hate freedom!)

But, fear not, my friends. Although this evil can looks evil, it's alright because I have the weird (trust me...) but trusty version of an American can opener, which I've now nicknamed, "The Aussie Can Opener of Nothing but Sad Failure." See Example 3

Exhibit #3: Can Opener of Doom from South Australia

I found this can opener in the drawer in the kitchen! The day is saved! I can open the can of tomatoes to finish my masterpiece!

Oh wait. No, I can't. This thing is flawed. It uses the metric system or it decides weather in Fahrenheit or something. What's with this thing? It doesn't freakin' work! How do I open the damn can now?!

Oh, I'm so screwed!

Wait... wait... No... I have an idea. Prue has a tool box in the extra bedroom... Let us now view exhibit #4

Exhibit #4: Tools of the Trade

After I went blind with red rage, I found a hammer and this little screw driver. By this point, I had shot up about 2 gallons of Vodka into my blood stream and snorted some hernione off the back of this homeless dude that I found wandering around in the yard while cutting himself and muttering something about poison in the water system.

The homeless guy with the drugs gave me inspiration: Never give up on your dreams. And, today my dream was to open the damned can of tomatoes.

Do you know what pwnd means? It's a lolcat style of speaking when refering to "owned". Like, "dominated". You see, someone mispelled "owned" a while back because "p" and "o" are next to each other on the keyboard.

Long story a tiny bit shortened: I did get the can open, and I did finish the pasta before Prue got home for dinner. The result lives on top of the fridge as a warning to future cans to not fuck with me:

Charlie: 1
Tomatoes: 0

Things and Stuff

I got an email from Marc a few days ago. He said Los Angles is doing well without Prue and I visiting LAX. It was good to hear from him.

Prue has the hicups. She's on the couch, right now, covering her eyes, in pain from hicups, as we discuss if should return to America.

She says she wants to go back to America.

So, my friends, it seems Prue and I have decided to come back.

I love Australia. I really do. The accents are awesome, the healthcare is great, it's pretty, Adelaide has great stuff to do, the people are nice, the Vodka is expensive (FAIL!), and Prue has family here.

But, I maintain that America is the best country. I keep telling her that if she has any hesitation to stay here, then I'm okay with it. I'll stay. I've already left everything I own and everyone I know to come here; so, if she wants to stay here forever, I won't mind. The deed is done.

But, she says I have too much back in America. So, she's talked me into coming back for us to live in America.

It'll cost pretty much the same for us to go live in The States as it would for us to live in Australia -- and Christmas would be in winter: as it should be! -- so, it's not much a concesion on her part.

I'm feeling quite bad about her leaving her family, but she says I have more family and friends in America than she has here; so, we're going back to America.

One thing I don't want to do: Live in Texarkana.

Austin or New Orleans would be nice. Maybe Washington or Oregan.

104F November

(Some) Names Prue & I Like

For a boy:

Damian Danueil Cooksey

For a girl:

Rei (something) Cooksey

Last Night & This Morning

Prue was off work yesterday. It made for funny times.

We played Uno and drank our asses off. Around 4PM, I got sleepy. So, we went to take a nap. Then, about 3 hours later, I woke up alone in the bed. It was something like 7PM. I was a bit surprised that I woke up alone because she was laying next to me when I went to sleep.

So, I got out of bed and stumbled through the house on my way to the back porch to have a cigarette. I saw her laying on the couch. I also saw a pot on the stove with steam coming out of it. Prue cooks a hell of a lot (and very good), so I just figured she knew what she was doing.

I was coming back inside from having my cigarette when I decided to take a peak at what she was cooking. I lifted up the lid and there was nothing in the pot. I mean, not even water. And she had actually managed to burn the steel of the pot!

I took it off, put water in it, and woke her up. Then came a lot of claims, "I've never done that before! The water must have all boiled out! I've never done that!"

Sure, hon, sure. Hahahaha.

It's 8:30AM. Prue went to work about 45 minutes ago. I was thinking it might be trash day, so just as I was taking the trash out to the curb, the trash man was at the neighbors house. I waved at him and pointed to my trash can.

Know what the fucker did?

HE KEPT GOING!!!!

Well, I got him! I put our trash cans on the other side of the road in the neighbor across the street's yard. So, he'll have to get it in a little bit.

What a dick.