If you are like me, you hate going to the grocery store. Fuck, I mean you love it. Yes, what woman doesn’t adore coming up with nutritious meals every damn night for her family?
This twitch in my eye has been getting worse and worse.
The only thing that makes it worthwhile is watching Ed the stock boy ogling my firm bosom while I reach down to squeeze the melons.
Hmmm, that’s right Eddie. Baby like milk.
You can stretch a meatloaf longer than your husbands skid marked undies. Just douse the whole fucking works with ketchup, and viola!
Add noodles and you have spaghetti!
Meatball submarines anyone?
This leaves us with four more family dinners to pull out of our ass. Inspiration usually strikes me in the liquor aisle, right next to the Tom Collins mix.
After that, I head to the dairy department, because eggs and milk are the staples of any well stocked kitchen. Along with bread and cheese, of course.
I mean, you really don’t need to even cook in order to stay alive. If you had played your cards right, you could have been wined and dined by a man named Giuseppe every night, and never even lay a finger on a dirty dish ever again. Madge who?
But no, you had to be the good girl, Marlene. Now look at you, a sad, dried up fucking rag who cries herself to sleep at night.
Tuna is both affordable and stands up well in a casserole!
Next week, I will discuss how to make sure your husband stays satisfied in bed!