Ceci n’est pas une Weekend Roundup

Hey, we’re back! Didja miss us? You did realize, didn’t you, that we didn’t do a Weekend Roundup last weekend… didn’t you? See, because it was Memorial Day and we were out of town it and it was just so crazy and… oh, who am I kidding? You didn’t notice at all, did you? And for that matter, you didn’t even care, did you? It’s okay. You can admit it. Go ahead… admit that this blog is nothing more than a momentary diversion for you, a way to kill 10 minutes a week. You basically only read it because you know us and you’re afraid will ask (in a desperate, needy tone), “Hey, did you guys read our blog post?” And you don’t want to have to lie to us, not to our face, so you read it out of no more than guilty obligation. Fine. We can live with that. At least you’re reading it.

But what about the rest of you… the ones that aren’t reading it at all? I save my strongest condemnation for you! I point my figure straight in your face that is not here and I say, “Guilty! Shame on you, sir! You are less than human!” And I can do this because you aren’t here to defend yourself. That’s because you’re not reading this. And if you’re all mad because you think I’m talking about you, well, that can’t be the case because you’re reading this post and therefore by definition cannot be the person I’m talking to. It’s that other guy, over there. Yeah, him. Next time you get a chance, knee him in the groin. He’s got it coming anyway, and it will be a welcome comic diversion from the banality of your everyday life. Hmmm… maybe I should knee more people in the groin. Sure, they will ultimately turn around and murder me where I stand, but the laughter generated right up to the moment of my death will surely make it all worthwhile.

Because ultimately, isn’t that what it’s all about? Laughter and pain, and how the two of them work together, hand-in-hand, day after day, to create this thing we call life? No, of course not. It’s about getting up and going to work at a job you hate, every day for the rest of your life and then you die. Wait, maybe it’s not that either. Maybe it’s about spending time with friends and family? Dear lord, I hope that’s what it’s all about, because we had that out the yin-yang this weekend. Every time I turned around, the doorbell was ringing and some friend or family member (the two categories are mutually exclusive) was standing at the door, expecting to be fed and watered like some common barnyard animal.

Friday night, it was standard houseguest Tom, who was celebrating his birthday and was bringing along his brother Joe, who was visiting from St. Louis. I guess for Tom’s birthday? That sounds right. I can’t think of any other reason why he would come to visit this godforsaken city with its ruined, postapocalyptic landscape and its braindead, zombie-like inhabitants. Wait, I was thinking of Omaha. KC is okay, I guess. So anyway, they came over for a fabulous, me-cooked meal of

  • grilled pork loin
  • sweet corn on the cob
  • homemade mac-n-cheese
  • bread
  • a cookie cake
  • ice cream
  • gray matter

Note: I did not cook the last four items. Also, the last item was just in our heads. We did not eat it.

So then that brings us to Saturday night. Saturday was a miserable day for yours truly. I mean, most days are pretty miserable anyway because I am forced to live out those days as Price Horn, and who wouldn’t be miserable in that situation? But Saturday was particularly miserable because my allergies were killing me. See, I typically have one day a year in which my allergies just go nuts and attack my body from within. No amount of medicine will help. I spend the day sneezing and blowing my nose and acting like a giant (well, considering I’m a pretty small fella, not-so-giant) snot factory. Saturday was that day. So did I lie around all day, feeling sorry myself, with Kleenex® stuffed up my nose? Well, I did spend the day feeling sorry for myself, and more than once I did end up with Kleenex shoved up my schnozz, but I didn’t lie around except for just a little while in the afternoon, but hey, I was tired and everyone else was lying down too and why don’t you get off my back about it, you big bully?

Anyway, what I was saying was, we spent much of the day running important errands, such as returning junk to Target and going to the comic book store and buying a screen-door closer thingy from Home Depot. Important, vital errands. Also we ate at IHOP. That’s kind of important, right? Most important meal of the day and all that? And also we took the kids to the pool. (Note: we did not just drop them off.) And nothing is more important than having the kids spend time out in the sun, splashing around with their fellows in heavily chlorinated water as their mucus-generating father looks on in amusement, shading his eyes with one hand and blowing his nose with the other.

But I digress.

So… Saturday night’s dinner guests were our friends Jimmy and Joy and their enormous brood of kids. Well, really there’s just four kids, but that’s twice as many as we have, so it (the brood) qualifies as enormous in comparison. I guess. Anyway, it was another me-cooked meal of

  • beer bratwurst
  • hot dog
  • assorted toppings of the kinds of things you put on those sausage-based treats, such as sauerkraut which was enjoyed by all of two people including me
  • other stuff that I just bought at the store instead of cooking, such as a bacon-ranch potato salad that was four kinds of awesome
  • lemon bars/raspberry chocolate bars that Shannon made but since we are one in the eyes of the Lord I guess you could say I made them too, so hooray for me

The meal was accompanied by a chorus of sneezes, provided by me.

And so we find ourselves approaching the Sunday evening dinner, when we will be visited by the Crows and their tiny brood (same number of kids, but the kids are tiny so again, it is a matter of comparison). This time, Jessie will be making dinner for us and bringing it to our house, a development of which I am totally a fan. But what will it be? I could save this post and then come back later and tell you all about it, but odds are I won’t be in the mood, so don’t count on it. So let’s just guess what that dinner will include:

  • meat
  • starch
  • vegetables
  • dessert
  • beer (only for the men, as the ladies drink only wine and it is illegal for the kids to drink the beer so we’ll just have to be discreet about it)

I’ll bet I’m pretty close. Okay, so that’s it. I’m done typing now. Will I decide to write a Weekend Roundup next week? Maybe. Only way to find out will be to visit again next weekend. And let’s be honest… what are the odds of that happening? About as good as the odds of me writing something worth reading. So… not looking good.

Go away!

One Response to “Ceci n’est pas une Weekend Roundup”

  1. Jessie Says:

    - I kneed Jon in the groin, he didn’t like it.
    - Salsa is a vegetable right?

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