10 Reasons Why Sasquatch is More Domesticated than My Sister
This has been a topic in my mind for many days now, and I think it’s one worthy to blog about. I have decided that officially, the Sasquatch is indeed a better homemaker than my sister could ever hope to be. As he rustles the leaves, and wipes his ape-like ass with various foliage, and possibly sleeps in his own feces…he is still Martha Stewart compared to my sister. I can always count on her to disappoint me in her ways of home making.
I’m going to explain why Sas is a better maternal figure to you, and I’ll do it in the form of a snarky list, free style flow.
So without further hold up:
10. When I got a brand new toaster oven about three months ago, and I excitedly texted this amazing shiny treasure to my sister, and she replied back with “wat is that?” Yes, she wasn’t able to identify a toaster oven. When I told my mother, she wasn’t surprised.
9. Thanksgiving of 2009, the pot for the mashed potatoes was missing a handle, and there wasn’t a pot lid to be found, so we had to use one of her tacky ass burner covers as a pot lid. This made me sad, and this made her laugh.
8. On the guest bed, she actually puts couch cushions as pillows. So when you wake up in the middle of the night, and kick the gigantic German Shepard out of the room who’s barking in his dreams, you will be in severe pain for her shitty couch cushions. It’s just a fact. And don’t try to locate a decent pillow in the house fit for a bed. Unless my mom found it at Goodwill, it won’t be there.
7. She sends my mother to do her grocery shopping because it would require her leaving her above ground pool for more than fifteen minutes. She throws in five bucks to my broke ass mother who stops by Goodwill and finds herself a treat for doing the grocery shopping at Bi-Lo, and this is their system. Seriously.
6. She used to get her meals solely off of the Schwan’s delivery truck, then lie to me and say she cooked it. THE SCHWAN’S TRUCK was her grocery service before my mom was!
5. Every time I visit, I clean out the fridge of expired items. I usually find 4-5 things of sour cream that are several months old. I find a variety of food that have been expired for six months minimum. I find food I can’t even identify, and that I fear may be a bio hazard. Every time.
4. She has full on conversations with me while she is shitting with the door wide open. And she expects you to be just as free with your bowels so she can still talk to you. And then when she trespasses in on your tender bowel movement, she exaggerates the stink and makes a huge deal while frantically spraying generic air freshener.
3. The dinner table is never available, because its being used as a folding utility for sixteen loads of laundry. So when you do find some food in that house, you might as well go find a lawn chair outside to eat it. No one wants to touch Ole Laundry Mountain complete with fat/farty/sleeping cat in the middle.
2. She keeps every container on earth in hopes to avoid doing dishes. So sometimes I might eat out of a cool whip bowl, or a bowl from some pork bbq. Or a deli container that once has potato salad…it’s like a redneck Crate & Barrel, I don’t know how to describe what’s going on there. Just don’t ask.
1. And the number one reason why I feel so strongly about Sasquatch being more domesticated than my sister? The fact that she only wears a bra for work. This woman has 46DD boobs, and for the love of all things holy, will NOT PUT A BRA ON. And whatever shirt she has on is probably stained up from her kool-aid or popsicles. Seriously, it’s like if Wynnona Judd were a stoner.
Here’s a picture of said pot from Thanksgiving 2009:
Here she is, one year later…spitting vodka on me from her “red solo cup.”
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been invited to an elaborate gala hosted by Sasquatch, and I’m very much looking forward to the mushroom risotto.