Everything Looks Like Shit

1/4

I’m beginning to notice a trend…

Maybe it’s because I’m a 12 year old boy on the inside, perhaps it’s because much of our conversations at home revolve around if I’ve pooped today, how it came out, and whether or not I cried over it (the answers today are yes, explosively and I cried with both joy and pain) – whatever the reason, there is a pattern emerging in our house of using terms for poop to describe things.

Mostly to describe food.

Today’s unfortunate victim: the vegan spaghetti puttanesca I made in honor of National Spaghetti Day. I was one step into the recipe when Ryan came downstairs and declared it “diarrhea water”….


So that’s how we kicked off this food holiday…

I had every intention of making basic, normal spaghetti and meatballs tonight, but once I got home I just couldn’t bring myself to roll little balls of cow while trying to hide the gluten free noodles from Ryan’s line of sight.

And I forgot to buy spaghetti sauce. 


I’m hindsight, it’s probably for the best that I went with a vegan, gluten free recipe – the shitstorm known as “Ginas burning butt” has been a good reminder that eating whatever I want, whenever I want, will end with more fingers in my ass. And I’d like to never relive THAT experience!  

Around the same time Ryan pointed out the unfortunate color of the vegetable stock… I also realized I was largely ignoring the *actual* recipe and had basically started in reverse….

I also realized that I didn’t have most of the vegetables the recipe suggested using, so I opted to grab everything from the refrigerator that was starting to get a little wrinkly…


It included one sad zucchini who was definitely on the verge of becoming a zombie, one 1/2 onion that had been in the refrigerator longer than I can remember, a red pepper that looked like an angry grandpa and a dusty can of diced tomatoes.

What could possibly go wrong?!


Oh, and some chopped basil that I through on top because I’m wild and crazy like that! The original recipe called for chickpeas, which I forgot to buy, so I threw in a package of great northern beans inside. They’re both white-ish beige colored, they’re both a type of bean – same damn thing in my book!

After combining all the ingredients in the pan (only 1 of which was actually in the recipe), i put the noodles on top – because the recipe said to cook them all together.

Actually, the recipe said to put the noodles in first…. which I did not do… 

It seemed like being completely submerged in the broth was an important part of cooking the noodles – and mine were just sad hovering on top of chunky diarrhea water – so I smushed them around a little in the hopes of getting them wet.


At this point I was hangry and thought “fuck it, those noodles are damp!” and put the lid on.


15 minutes later I had a soupy brown concoction that could best be described as “new and improved shit stew! Now with noodles”

Being that I was hangry, a little wine drunk and very tired… I ate 90% of it in one sitting then remembered that I didn’t take a picture of it…

So, imagine a plate of lumpy, yet still not quite solid poop with zucchini chunks in it and undigested noodles.

It was fucking delicious. The best tasting pile of crap I’ve made in a while. 

After dinner, I entered into the time-suck known as “Nicky needed help with his Rubik’s cube”. There were YouTube videos, there was a lot of me saying “Shhhh, mommy is working on this, you can have it back in a minute” and “stupid cross middle pieces! It’s rigged! It’s all fake!” Meanwhile, Ryan stood to the side saying “it’s all just ‘left turn, right turn, right turn’ and you just repeat that kind of shit. Just repeat the same shit over and over again and you’ll get it.”


There’s fucking code words involved, and according to this stupid YouTube guy, it’s really simple and should take about 15 minutes the first time.

LIES!!!!


You’re supposed to solve the inner-cross pieces first – which took the internet man 3 minutes. THIS TOOK ME AN HOUR!!!!!

Another hour later, I had gotten this far:


This is the point in which I gave up and accepted my fate as “not a Rubik’s cube master”. 

Fuck you Rubik’s cube. I hate you. 

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