i bought a toaster. from meijer. for eight bucks. so now i can eat breakfast if i want to. i feel a little more domesticated. before long here, i'll be perfectly able to not sniff people's butts and pee outside.
I expressed as much to my dad, he responsed with: "Domestication comes hard, but is generally a good thing". While I'm not ready to cash in the car I've had since I was 21 for an embrassingly geriatic mini van, since I graduated from college last year, I've collected quite the list of kitchen things: A mini firdge (which I found discarded in the dorm hallways and dosn't actually work), a crock pot (even though I'm still not sure how it works), pots and pans (second hand, from my mom, which I've used twice to make unsuccessful spaghetti with) and a toaster (and so far, it's only been used to make Hello Kitty pop tarts this morning for my girlfriend and I).
I still feel very much the young hot shot who made out furiously with some drunk random at a Marilyn Manson concert in Grand Rapids during the God, Guns & Government/Ozzfest 2001 Five years ago, but given the ... chance (as it'd be, "opportunity" wouldn't be the appropriate word") I wouldn't have done it again.
Kissing that girl. I'd go to the show again in the heart beat.
But looking at the toaster and munching away on pop tarts, has got me to wondering: how domesticated must one be before he knocks a chick up? Like, Ideally, the chick he knocks up would be his wife and they'd both have jobs and they'd have a house and at least one car to share between them. But how whipped does the guy have to be? Can I still wear t-shirts in my free time? Can I still own chuck taylors and drink beer when ever I want? Will I still be reading comics or will i have crossed that lame threshold where people say: "They're for kids", will "Star wars" still be the most amazing thing I've ever seen.
Kids. I don't think anyone actually wants kids, they just wind up with them. poor bastards.
I expressed as much to my dad, he responsed with: "Domestication comes hard, but is generally a good thing". While I'm not ready to cash in the car I've had since I was 21 for an embrassingly geriatic mini van, since I graduated from college last year, I've collected quite the list of kitchen things: A mini firdge (which I found discarded in the dorm hallways and dosn't actually work), a crock pot (even though I'm still not sure how it works), pots and pans (second hand, from my mom, which I've used twice to make unsuccessful spaghetti with) and a toaster (and so far, it's only been used to make Hello Kitty pop tarts this morning for my girlfriend and I).
I still feel very much the young hot shot who made out furiously with some drunk random at a Marilyn Manson concert in Grand Rapids during the God, Guns & Government/Ozzfest 2001 Five years ago, but given the ... chance (as it'd be, "opportunity" wouldn't be the appropriate word") I wouldn't have done it again.
Kissing that girl. I'd go to the show again in the heart beat.
But looking at the toaster and munching away on pop tarts, has got me to wondering: how domesticated must one be before he knocks a chick up? Like, Ideally, the chick he knocks up would be his wife and they'd both have jobs and they'd have a house and at least one car to share between them. But how whipped does the guy have to be? Can I still wear t-shirts in my free time? Can I still own chuck taylors and drink beer when ever I want? Will I still be reading comics or will i have crossed that lame threshold where people say: "They're for kids", will "Star wars" still be the most amazing thing I've ever seen.
Kids. I don't think anyone actually wants kids, they just wind up with them. poor bastards.