Fire in the Hole!

*SPOILER- Gross out potential below!*

The New Year normally equates change for most of us, but some things never do...like the world-famous 7-alarm chili Monica and I make. Ok, only three or four households know its existence, but it's good DANG chili! After all the holiday feasts and treats why not start the year with a BANG of some chili?! We're all stuffed and puffed anyway, right? Calls for a good gastric clean out and a fantastic bowl of chili is just the answer! It tastes a lot better than that nasty jug of pseudo juice* the doctor would give you and works much faster! Proof being Mon is probably running for a bathroom right now just reading this intro...sorry, Mon. WARNING-Double check you are NOT nearly out of TP before you attempt to make chili!

It's really easy- brown some ground turkey, add some onions, lots of chili powder, sometimes a handful of diced green peppers, some cayanne thrown in for good measure, couple cans of Bush's best chili beans, dark kidney beans, pinto beans, large tom sauce, some beef broth, a spash of milk (makes it creamy and cuts down on the heartburn..really, it does... tablespoon of sugar because Grandma T says so, more chili powder and you have Y-U-M in just an hour! Let it simmer a bit longer to fill the entire house up with gut-ripping chili-tastic smell! Watch the family appear instantly in the kitchen, bowls and spoons in hand, drooling like no food has crossed their lips for six months.
--There goes Mon to the bathroom again.

This time I added some leftover deer loin Mr. FixIt had cooked a few days ago, ripped it into small chunks. Very tender, very yummy!
--Mon runs again to the bathroom at this point because she doesn't like venison, lol.

Fill your bowl, grab a handful of Fritos to dip with or a fresh baked chunk of cornbread and woohooo!! Let the burn begin!! Even Mr. FixIt can usually only handle one large bowl. You'll need some napkins and be forewarned that belching could be hazardous to those around you. All candles and open flames should be extinguished!

During this evening's chili fest, Monster Man excused himself from the table, bowl of chili not even half gone, "I think I need to go..." Works like a CHARM, did I not tell you?! The poor boy darts for the bathroom, both hands on his lower cheeks, shouting, "My bottom's gonna 'splode!!" Thankfully he made it just in time. Whew! Not long after we finished, Mr. FixIt's innards had marinated long enough to force the rest of us out of the den, running for gas masks and Oust spray. ~GAG~ Yes, this chili is worth running around the house with kleenex stuffed up your nose for a few post-dinner hours until the stench clears. Really.

Moral of the story is, no matter the stomach pain, trips to the bathroom, or cans of Oust spray we go through, "chili night" will alwasy be part of this family. I don't expect that to EVER change.


*I do honestly know the real name/s for "pseudo juice" but they didn't have quite the same ring in that sentence. :-D

It's official!

I'm a ChaCha Guide!

I really think this will be fun, maybe a tad stressful, since you are under a time clock to answer each question, but fun nonetheless. I love looking up stuff, might as well get paid for it. Mon has already called me, "Are you near your computer?" just because of that post. Ha ha. Funny girl. Mr. FixIt keeps buzzing around the house saying, "cha cha-CHA!" Nerd.

Anywho, I need to get my arse in gear so I can get a few hours of work done answering questions of the masses while the kids are occupied with a movie. They are watching "The Mask" with Jim Carrey for the 387th time.

Cheryl Cr@w will never be the same!

If you read Mon's chocolate milk and Rolos story...this is the second half, unless she's feverishly blogging and beats me to the punch. And yes, this is about jr. high mentality, but we were poor, frazzled college kids in need of cheap entertainment so bear with me if you dare.

One night, not long after the above-mentioned fiasco in her car, we were probably supposed to be studying for an exam, when the Sheryl Cr@w song All I Wanna Do came on the radio. New lyrics to that tune instantly came flowing out of my brain. I don't know where from because I've been searching for them for weeks now after prodding from Mon to blog about it. Eternally lost in the gray matter-I cannot find them. Anyway, as this song started to play, I was lying on the floor, books around me, trying to study, working on a Rolo and Mon had on a pair of Santa Christmas boxers (we were poor, tired and busy- no time for laundry- the boxers were new=clean) that I'd picked out for the soon-to-be Mr. FixIt and the lyrics spewed out recapping the previous night of near choking to death. They went something like this (not in order, just parts that seem possible after digging through 14 or so years of gray matter and cobwebs):


All I wanna do is not die on this chocolate milk
Just sit here, enjoy and have a snack
....

We are swigin' choc milk at 7 on Wednesday
In a big purple Grand Am somewhere in Zanesville
-----
All I''m gonna do, is choke on milk...I gotta feeling, this stuff is comin' up.
All I'm gonna do, is gag on this.. I cant help it, I'm not the only one.
Oh yea I'm gonna shoot, this out my nose-
Oh no here comes my Rolo-Be-cause Mon-i-ca just sucked a chunk down her lungs



*******

You get the idea? I hope because that is awful.
It's beyond cheesy and really stupid but for some reason it just spilled out and it was hysterical! We were snorting and laughing our asses off until Mon ripped a toot and we laughed harder. Tears came, and in the midst of literally rolling on the floor in hysterics and from sheer force of laughter she let go of another one promptly grabbing her own a$$, which if you remember was in my honey's brand new Santa shorts, and hauled butt to the bathroom!! Grandma is hollering from the other end of the house, "You girls ok in there??" I've never cried so hard from laughing in my life!

So from then on:
* That song became known as the Chocolate Milk Puke Song
*My grandmother was CERTAIN we had fallen off the deep end
*We could never eat Rolos...at least not together because of choking hazard
*Mr. FixIt never would wear those Santa boxers. We did wash them...a lot. He still won't.

Peek into the Monique mind

Wow what a day! Trying to catch up with all the bloggy friends and read so many blogs I think my eyeballs will shrivel in my sleep later!! Though the last one I read revived me a bit. OH MAN! Near fell out of my chair! I will have to one-up the chocolate and Rolos fiasco with another chocolate milk incident involving the (at the time) soon-to-be Mr. FixIt's Santa boxers, but for right now go enjoy the above tale from Monica's point of view.

She did neglect to mention naked trolls and climbing in windows at 4 am, but those fun times are blog fodder for another day! :-D

For a clue into the chocolate milk and Santa boxers story...Mr. FixIt never did wear those boxers after he found out what we did to them...

Hamburger anyone?

Through college, my best friend Mon and I made daily jaunts between work, class, home and back again, and occasionally we would stop to get Micky D's Happy Meals...yes, because college kids with little to no financial assistance who work full-time jobs while carrying full class loads are dirt poor and that's when Happy Meals were still under $2. Anywhoo...cruising along in the Blue Bug, as her powder blue Escort was called, I usually rode shotgun which meant I dispensed food, beverage, chocolate, Tums, and tissues as well as the occasional scream in fear of my life or to warn pedestrians to run to the next county!

On one of these trips for a quick late lunch, we pulled out of the drive-thru and I passed her fries to her first (which is bizarre-Mr. FixIt wants his fries first too. They are somehow twins in former life) then unwrapped her burger and handed to her. We went about our way, I drank my drink, and we made our stops. We ended up at my grandma's house where I (we at times) had been living for most of our college lives. Day went on and evening came, we started to head out again. I was feeling a bit hungry, but too busy to really do anything about it. We had classwork, homework, projects, teaching assignments to make up and 5 million other things per day to do such as coloring our hair using screw drivers. Don't ask.

Because we were usually so busy, I don't remember the exact details of what happened next, but I believe we were leaving my grandma's for an evening class, it wasn't quite dark yet, jump back in the Blue Bug and "My brake won't go down." "Mother(*&#$@#$%@@# my park brake WON'T $@*(?*&?@#$ go down!!" We were both perplexed. She pulled it up just fine earlier and on our rounds, when leaving had no problem releasing it to the down position. "It feels mushy....do you smell THAT??" --Um no, but I'm a little hungry. She gets it down with a mash and off we go. When we return later, now dark, "There's something IN there!" as she pulls the brake up to set it. "What the....Oh my god!! Where did this come from??" as she pulled up part of a hamburger, slightly mangled. I replied, "I dunno. It's not mine!"
"You sure?!"
"Yeah! It's not mine!"
"Well it's not MINE!"
"I ate my sandwich. I know I did! I had to!"
"Where'd this come from then, you handed mine to me. I know I ATE mine!"
"Well, it's NOT mine either!"

By now we are both giggling hysterically in the car, in the driveway in the dark, having drug out a flashlight and tongs from the house to dig the remnants of smushed bun and burger with splashes of ketchup out of the park brake. I was really thinking, "I did eat my hamburger, didn't I? I mean, I think I did!" Then I remembered being hungry before we'd left the house the last time. Oh sh!t.
More giggling and swearing, things along the lines of "You dumbass! You ruined my park brake. My car's gonna stink!"

Apparently I had pulled my burger out between getting her fries and her burger to hand over. I must have set it down on my lap and a couple of crazy curves later, it was gone from my lap and, in such a rush with things to do, forgotten. Though I must have had a good bit of my soda to fill me up because I really did think I had eaten lunch.

Poor Blue Bug did always have a touch of a musty grilled odor after that. She sold it not long afterwards.

*edited to add link to Mon--whoops, forgot that :-D