*warning: the following blog contains adult material that may cause the hair on the back of your knees to rise, heebie geebies, Stockhome Syndrome, eye rolling, list making, and general feelings of unease.
The devil has inhabited my microwave.
I repeat. Satan now resides in my Whirlpool Elite.
This morning at 6:am as I was warming the milk for my coffee he first showed himself to me. Right there, in the digital time window he appeared. 666.
I stared wide eyed and fearful before snatching my innocent mug from his clutches. My milk was scalding hot. SCALDING I tell you. Usually it is only tepid when it comes out. I threw open my front door and rebuked the offensive liquid out of my home. Then I grabbed my purse, and my keys and ran out of the house as if Lucifer himself was on my heels. He might have been for all I knew, I was in that much heed. Then I slipped on his puddle and landed with a crunchy thud next to my car. I'll be damned if my boss didn't believe the devil made me late for work. See he is already casting his dark magic and causing riffs and mayhem in my relationships. I spent my day at work vigilantly answering all e-mail and never letting my in box get more than 5 letters at a time. At lunch time I skedaddled over to the chapel for a Bible, but after discovering the inmates used them all for free rolling papers, I hit the cooler to rustle up some garlic. By three o'clock, my coworkers sent my stinking twitching self home . I think some employee's were starting to believe me, wanting me cast out and all.
Back at home my husband did not kinder entertaining any spirits other than maybe a hot toddy in the microwave oven. Claims he sees that offensive number only every ten minutes or so. I decided I would venture back into my domain. Cunning monster that he is, my oven appeared fine, so I walked straight over to him and stared him straight in the face. That is when my first cookbook, the Betty Crocker circa 1981, fell out of the top cupboard, and bounced off my head. It's flimsy spine broken in two. Page 261 Dark Indulgence Pie. Page 262 Devils Food Cake.
This is what I need you to do, my friends and do it quick as I am crouched under my computer desk whisper typing this message lest my proximity and my safety be given away. Send me sustenance. Now. Knowing it is hard to get your hands on Holy Water, I want the next best thing: water of life. (That's code for Aquavit.) Food stuffs. A nice cheese tray and fruit basket. Macadamia nuts. Some kabobs. Sushi extra avocado. Any extra candy you have lying around. But not, not the Smarties. I do not know how long I will be under holding fort and battling temptation. Oh and prayers are welcome too.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
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10 comments:
Ho about some clean undies, if you are going to be under therethere long?
Ross Unlimited
Help me. Now the devil is controlling my key board.
RU
This is all an elaborate ruse to get your children's halloween candy, isn't it?
Ross. C'mon. Underware. As if. The dark one causes sane people to type in jibberish. He likes the electronics I tell ya.
No Candor. I want everyones candy.
How 'bout some local made chicharones and a box of moon pies? I'll need your address. You can email it to rootietoot@gmail.com.
When he's not in your microwave, he's in my washing machine, making it pee on the floor.
and in my sink making it fill with dirty dishes, my laundry basket making ti fill with dirty clothes, it leaves the toilet seat up so you get a cold surprise in the middle of the night, and uses up all the hot water. You can have my candy, I don't need it. It makes me fat...er.
I beleive Candor may be married to the Devil.
Close, we're getting married next year.
I take it won't be a "white" wedding eh.
Actually it will be.
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