I burned dinner.
I haven't actually made something that was charred to the point of being inedible in years.
But I guess I was tired or something. I had garlic bread in the oven, and beans and rice on the stove top. And instead of turning the temperature down on the beans and rice, I turned the garlic bread off. So, the garlic bread stayed cold, and the beans and rice caught fire and tasted really, really gross.
That pisses me off SO much. I had JUST gone to the store to buy food, and I was so happy to be bringing home something to eat... And then, I had to go and catch it on fire. Duh. This would ordinarily be very, very frustrating, but it's even worse considering that it was three bucks' worth of food that caught on fire. Three bucks... yeah, whoop-dee-doo... Except, I've only got twelve bucks left for the next twelve days of the month. Catching beans and rice on fire is a really, really sad thing when you might not be able to afford any MORE beans and rice for awhile.
Happily, there was another package of beans and rice. And happily, it tasted okay with chicken instead of the beef I'd dumped into the flaming concoction. So, everything was mostly okay. I was still kinda ticked off at myself.
I endeavor not to think about it any more tonight.
I will think about something more amusing...
Earlier today, as I was puttering around, there were three boys playing some kind of video game. And apparently, they were getting REALLY into it. One of them yelled something at another one about wanting to get some dick. Something like, "suck my dick," only slightly more elaborate. Maybe it was something more along the lines of, "I know you like dick." SOMETHING like that.
Poking my head out, I asked them: "Dick? Somebody HERE likes dick?" I pretended to be appalled. "Wait a second... WHO likes dick!?"
Nobody responded. For a minute. Then there was a brief conversation about whether being bisexual qualified one to raise one's hand. "Well, yeah... That counts. Helena didn't say, 'who here likes dick and nothing else?'"
And then there was a sort of silence, as everybody went back to watching and playing the video game.
But then I started thinking about dick...
One day, Neil and I were at a bus station for awhile. It was a two fucking hour wait for our bus. With little other choice, we reluctantly engaged in conversation with a rather sketchy individual who claimed to have recently escaped from McNeil Island Federal Penitentiary. Or some shit like that. The kid was so full of shit about everything else, I kind of think he was probably at least seriously embellishing about his time and his fortunate, but untimely, release.
...But we had nothing else to do, and the kid DID buy Neil a pack of cigarettes for no particular reason. So, it was only polite to listen to him yammer on for a little while.
And GAWD did he yammer.
Some shit about how he grew up in California, and some shit about how he grew up on the streets of Detroit with Eminem. Some shit about how he'd walked from Steilacoom to Lakewood, which is, according to Yahoo, about 85 miles. In one fucken day? Come on! The kid was wearing workboots! Some shit about how he'd had a previous escape from McNeil Island and fathered two children during that escape... Something about how the DTF (I think he MAY have meant the ATF, but who the hell knows...) patrolled the entire shoreline for miles on the shore of Steilacoom, the nearest mainland to McNeil Island. Just a fucking bunch of bullshit. Some crap about being stabbed -- he DID have an impressive wound -- and something about his cell-mates always asking for a new cell because this kid was always stabbing needles in his arms to freak them out... What the HELL?
But the best part...
The best part was when he started telling us about how he'd worked food service (I guess) at a women's prison at one point in his life.
The women, he said, had to be physically restrained from attacking him, because they were so desperate for his dick. He wasn't allowed to talk to them, and he had to have bodyguards to usher him around. Otherwise, the poor, deprived women would attack him.
(It should be noted that, while this kid had nice eyes, he was otherwise rather unattractive...)
Well, in this women's prison, they weren't allowed to cook certain foods for the inmates. Specifically forbidden? Hot dogs. And sausage. And carrots.
(I cringed inwardly when he said carrots. I knew a girl once who used to tell me about her exploits with carrots. Argh... I can't remember to turn the fucking temperature down on the beans and rice, but I can't seem to block out a conversation from 1998 about carrot-love... Cripes.)
...But sometimes, said the McNeil Island escapee, they DID have hot dog nights anyway.
The women apparently had some kind of privilege to leave their cells and go outside in the evenings for a certain amount of time. And it was a much-adored, well-taken-advantage-of, happy amount of time. Except on hot dog nights. On hot dog nights, the prison yard was empty -- not one single woman outside!
"And... let me guess," I asked the kid, "They were all still hungry after dinner?"
"Yup!" he said, with some kind of pride.
What a dumb shit.
Now, granted, I would be rather displeased if I were in prison. I would miss my family and friends. I would miss good food. I would miss my independence. I'd miss rainshowers and sunshine and my own clothing and endless supplies of notebooks and pens. And... yeah, I'd miss sex. Probably I'd miss it a lot.
But I've never met a female who didn't at some point in her life look at her body and notice that she had hands. With FINGERS on them. And opposable thumbs.
Yeah, masturbation is a pretty poor substitute for pretty much anything. But it's not like a hot dog is really going to do much more for a woman than her own hands. Or -- dare I say it? -- the hands of her cell-mate. Hell, a good percentage of women don't even get off on penetration. I personally know a good half-dozen women who don't. Yeah, we talk about these things.
This kid was absolutely convinced that women NEED dick SO MUCH that they would attack him in corridors and go into frenzies over hot dog nights.
Stupid shit.
He was SO full of crap.
But it was actually really amusing. I thought it was pretty damned funny. I bet that's the sort of kid who doesn't know what a vagina is, and needs a video to learn it.
I'm going to get changed for bed now.
Ah, sweet dreams of Oscar Meyer...
Heh!
~Helena*