Look Who’s Coming to Dinner


It is approximately day 96 of the Poison Ivy Itchathon. When is this shit gonna leave my body alone?! I have stuff to do and can’t go around scratching like I have a bad case of fleas all the damn time. We have peeps coming over to dinner tonight and Miss Manners advises against scratching and cooking at the same time. Nobody wants dead skin cells in their mashed potatoes.

I don’t usually give or attend dinner parties… I barely give or attend parties of any kind. It’s not that I don’t like giving parties, it’s that I do not enjoy the planning, cooking and cleaning up. Sometimes I don’t like the people either and then the event is a real drag. I will also be required to wear real clothes including proper undergarments and that knowledge is bringin me down, down, down… I guess what I’m really saying after all in this second paragraph is that I’m anti-party.

I gave a lot of thought to the menu for tonight. I try to cook the most wretched meals so as not to encourage people to come back or try and reciprocate and invite me over. I’m thinking liver and onions. Almost no one in America likes liver – with onions or without – and with good reason. It’s DISGUSTING. My mom tried to feed us that nasty crap when I was a kid. I think I was maybe five years old the last time she served that up to me. I told her I had a bellyache, that I wasn’t hungry, that there was a train I needed to catch, but she slapped that fatty liver on the white with harvest gold Corelle ware plate in front of me anyway. What happened next is legend… I puked on the table. I was never served liver again. From then on when my mom decided to cook up that disgusting meal, she made me a hamburger. My brother still got liver and complained bitterly about that unfair act. Suck it up, buttercup.

liverandonions

IT LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE THIS… I think I am having PTSD symptoms.

The hell of this dinner tonight is that I can’t even go to my “special menu plan” because these peeps are sort of religious types. Normally when I have people over they are of the same mind as me; let’s get our drink on and order pizza and then dig in my pantry for leftover halloween candy. Then we sit around watching old movies and cracking each other up. This bunch is gonna require me to go all Emily Post and use real plates and silverware that is not made of plastic. I’m also going to have to clean enough to make sure the dog hair balls aren’t mistaken for real dogs because of their enormous size. That’s a bummer, because I had a a really had a ginormous one rolling around. I even named it Fred.

Just writing all this is making me depressed. Or maybe I’m depressed not by an impending dinner party, but by the fact that all I hear from my beloved family today is complaints and whining. Maybe I just won’t show up for this dinner party at my house. I’ll hang a sign on the door saying Back in One Week. I’m thinking ole Miss Manners probably hasn’t covered the host who disappears right before a dinner party. Maybe I’ll write it for her tonight.

25 thoughts on “Look Who’s Coming to Dinner

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  5. My brother likes liver and onions so much that once when my son puked on the table, he just put up his arm to protect his plate and kept eating. That’s a one-in-a-million chance of someone liking liver that much.

  6. I feel like I’ve found a sister I never knew I had. If you’re ever in NC please come on over (preferably in your pj’s with no bra) and we’ll hang. And I mean that literally for myself because of the whole ‘no bra’ thing. Great blog !

  7. Hate to disappoint you but I love liver and onions–don’t like to cook it but I get it frequently when we go out to eat. And yes, I too was served this as a child but I never foisted it upon my own children as hubby doesn’t like it and also the a fore mentioned reason.

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