Cheesy weezey and bitchy witchy

I made cheese. There is not a lot to say about making cheese except it's really fun. I know there are several cheeses that you can easily make at home, I went for Farmer's Cheese. Amazingly, that is exactly what I got. It's white, pretty firm and tastes like...cheese. It's good. It is not amazing or mind blowingly delicious, but, it's good. I'm definitely going to make cheese again. Different kinds too, because I had fun and I think now that I have the basics, I can work on improving the flavor. I have herbs I need to dry, so I can incorporate those and definitely some hot peppers from the garden. If you want to try making cheese, just go to You Tube and check out the hundreds of vids on it there. Just choose one you like, they're basically the same. I promise you, making cheese is easy and cheap (cheap being my operative word). If a kitchen idiot like me can do it, anyone can.

Now, to the bitchy part of the post. Geez Louise with a crippled stick up her ass. I have to go to work so I'll try and condense this shit so you won't gaze into a glazed pile of boredom who would rather set fire to yourself than read another word of this crapola. I haven't seen Lissa since I dropped her off at school yesterday. He mom got semi-supervised overnights twice a week. Instead of feeling free, I felt uneasy and nervous without her around. So, I made cheese. Fuck cheese. Today, I get her back, but, it's a busy busy day. It's old lady check day. I know my mother needs to be escorted all over hell, so I went over there to get started at 9 am. Nope. She's not ready and doesn't want to get ready. Her 'show' is on and she wants to drink coffee and visit with her cats. Seriously. Can I come back after Meals On Wheels is delivered? She doesn't want to go until after she gets her lunch. Okay, let me clear something up. MOW is not a free thing, she pays for it five days a week. She does nothing but bitch about how horrible the food is and the highlight of her day is opening the lunch, snorting at it's contents and setting the untouched container on the porch for the cats to pick at. So, how is she too busy to go run her errands? But, she is. Period. Nope. Not a chance of changing her mind. She demands I take her after lunch. I remind her I have to go to work right after lunch (which she damn well know). Well, now I can take her later. I have to pick up Lis at school later. Then I have to take Chloie to the vet. Later she says. I will take her later. Bam. Her word is law and it's been laid down.


See, she doesn't need anything from the store, so I can fuck off and take her later. No time later? Too bad, find some. I'm out of coffee. So I go ahead and run to the store. I do some other errands. Pay bills I have no other time to pay, etc. You know the drill. All the while thinking about this place. Seriously. When I blog, even if it's about stupid celebs, I get feedback here. I feel like someone out there might be listening to me and I'm not all alone in a universe of stupid and mean. There were some things I could have blogged about, but, you have the outline of my day. It belongs to everyone else. I wouldn't mind so much, but, there are two of them that seem to take delight in fucking up all of my free time. Need I mention who? The one who gave birth to me (I think she's lying and I am not her biological child..shut up..it keeps me wanting to live) and that other one who gave birth to my granddaughter. I was there for that one or I would disclaim it too at this point. So, off to work I go and I'll take off early so I can pick up the kid on a day that's not originally mine to pick her up on (some people LOVE to change visit days to correspond with my work days because they never worked a day in their fucking life and isn't it fun to fuck up Pat's day, tee hee, and DHS lets them because someone seems to have the DHS and DA in their front pocket and I hate them all and if you can write a better run on venom sentence, go ahead)  and then I will take the kid home and pick up the old lady. More fun shopping in hell with a tired whiny kid along, right? It will take her hours to choose cat food hairballess brands while I entertain said kid in the hot car. Then she'll want to go to the vet with us and hobble in and give her opinion which will be something retarded and take an extra hour. Then we can go to all the places I already went when I got coffee and paid bills because she wouldn't go the first time. Basically she's adding about 5 extra torture hours to my already full of shit day.

Lissa hates riding with Tuwella and I'm going to offer her $10 bucks I can't afford if she doesn't complain once. Let's see how that shit works out. I hate check day, I hate old ladies...oh, get this. Tuwella just knocked on the door. She's outraged at the cable company. Again. She wants their number. Like I'm a phone book, right? I'm just tying to finish this post and get the fuck out of here. I tell her it's on her bill. She sees the computer on and says, how come you have cable and I don't?? She's screaming by now. I reply that I am not a Mediacom employee, how would I know? I go over there and look and she's fucked the programing on her new Mediacom remote up for the 12th time in less than a week. I fix it. She bitches. I tell her, just turn off the tv, power on and hit 0-3. There. No, she doesn't get it. I am nearly psycho from doing this all week. WTF. Off. Power. 0-3. That's it. She wants me to write it down on an index card with an eyebrow pencil. Some one kill me now. Kill me, I demand it!!!!

As I leave, what do I see on the porch? The goddamn meals on wheels lunch, untouched and ready for feline consumption. I'm going to work. Someone totally psycho could come in today and tell me they are going to murder the whole town and I'd assume they were normal. Come on, psychos, today is your day. See ya later. I'm sorry for this now. Maybe you just read the last sentence in this giant pile of irritation that feels like the painful bleeding hemorrhoid that is my sucky life. If so, still stands. Sorry. Go make some cheese.