Memorial Day Weekend

Time to update this thing and boy do I have a story to tell today.

I am going to skip out on the LOST commentary but I do have a few TV related points to make.

PLEASE people quit bitching cause all of the islands questions werent answered. It would be called the series finale if they told you everything, not season finale. If you hate the show that much then stop watching it. Quit fucking it up for the rest of us that like a good mystery.

The Deadliest Catch on Discovery is one of my new favorite shows. Not cause I like fishing, and not cause I find fishermen remotely sexy in any way shape or form. No, its cause that show is just so damn interesting. I dont know how they made a show about crabbing out in Alaska remotely entertaining, but they did it.

The season premiere of Rescue Me starts tonight! I already set the season pass on the Tivo.

So you think you can dance is back....You know, I tried to discuss this show once before on this blog and I just couldnt do it. So I am attempting yet again to make sense of this shit. First off, where do these people come from? I mean I know I say the same shit about the American Idol hopefulls, but seriously unless youve had formal training, where do you get off thinking you can do the Foxtrot on national TV? Second, is there some sort of prize or notariaty that comes with winning? I havent seen the winner from last year dancing anywhere. I've seen Charles Grigsby, Niko Smith and Mandisa more times than Ive ever seen the winner boy from SYTYCD and Shit, he didnt even get a guest spot on Dancing with the stars! How prestigous can this competition be?? I am just confused. However I am mildly entertained enough to keep watching. Besides I have to see if the lil alcoholic boy relapses. If so they can put him on A&E's intervention and maybe he will gain some celebrity..but it wont be from this shit, TRUST.

Finally, I get to discuss my Memorial Day weekend and the cookout that almost turned into an episode of cops. It starts with my idea to have a mini cook out at my mothers place (cause she has the grill, the pool, and the patio enclosure, oh and the money for food) with me and the boy and the man and mom and dad. The man suggests that we go to the DC Wharf to pick up some crabs for our lil event. So, at 6:45 am Sunday morning I am filling up on caffinated water and ephedra diet pills and driving to the watefront. After much haggling (I dont do that shit, I leave it to the man) we got a 1/2 bushel of live jumbo males for $106. Now, I am siced cause I get to cook crabs which I havent done in years.

Mom and I spend the rest of the morning cooking and preparing the other food, cause if you know anything about crabs, you know that they arent really food. They are good, but you would have to eat the whole bushel yourself in order to get halfway full, and even then you would be hungry again inside of an hour.

I run out to grab a few last minute items, and when I return my step sister and her family are there. Apparantly they were invited as well. Now I dont dislike my stepsister, I mean she is alright if you like the completly spinless, refuses to do anything to her nappy ass head, pickaninny braided, no cooking skills having, let your husband spend up your money and order you around type. Her kids are alright I guess, if you like the whiney competitive type where they only eat rich folks food. Frankly I aint even gonna sugar-coat the husband. He is a former drug addict, current alcoholic with a nepoleon complex who looks like someone hit him in the face with a rubber mallet and a bag of nickels.

I return from the store to Pande-motherfuckin-monium! This short fat asshole is trying to cook my damn crabs. Not only is this fuck trying to cook them, but he is trying to BOIL them. All at once! In one fucking pot. My hundredandsixfucking dollar blue crabs! I told him to go fuck himself he aint put in on shit! Suddenly I am the bad guy! I am trying to fuck up the cookout cause I dont want my damn expensive ass crabs bobbing in water. I am being hushed and being told its "Okay". Pardon the fuck out of me but no its not OKAY! Fuck him and I dont care if he gets mad. Anyone with an ounce of sense knows you steam crabs not boil them you fucking drunk midget! When I got no support from the rest of the family, I bounced. I knew it was either going to get bloody and ugly real fast or I was gonna have to go. So I grabbed my keys threw the boyfriend the duece and rolled.

Half an hour later I come back, and my shit is boiling on the stove and I aint saying shit. You want Avin to shut the fuck up, then thats what she will do. I am not helping any of you fuck up my shit anymore. Needless to say the crabs were soggy and fucked up. Each one poured its own personal river when you opened it. No words can convey how pissed off I was about that shit.
So I made myself a solemn promise. When next I am in the company of that short fat fuck, I am going to make him a nice tall glass of Dieter's Iced Tea. You may have got me once asshole, but it will never happen again. Next time you do anything I dont particularly care for, I am going for your throat.

So thats that, another fun filled weekend where I try not to kill someone. Hope yours was better than mine. In fact, I would love to hear from anyone who's weekend yielded an actual fight. And no I dont mean the Hughes vs Gracie debacle Saturday night and may I say a big WTF to that!
Later folks.