I Love Chicken-Milk!

Chicken-Milk is what one of my friends calls eggnog… hahaha, she’s so funny…

From the rather unsavoury name and by the scrunched up nose, I gathered that she didn’t like Eggnog.

I love eggnog.

And it is now on sale!!!!

How exciting is that!?!?

I was walking the other night with this friend, and we decided to go to Mac’s. As in the store, I’m not talking about a computer store though.

Mac’s is awesome… I have two within walking distance, though I only recently found out about this second, larger store that night with Friend. This other store is bigger and awesome, and sells sandwiched and tubs of Ice cream… This would be awesome on its own for ice cream’s sake, but it’s even more awesome for my sake as I was hesitating buying ice cream from the near-ish Loblaws that I go to for groceries. It would require me walking home with it melting ­čśŽ I was very sad when I left without ice cream… and now I have a place to go that’s hardly a five-minute walk away!

Score!

But the main awesomeness that I found was my Chicken-Milk.

It was hidden beside the normal milk, encased in a foreign looking carton… I’m used to the blue cartons, and I would post a picture if I could find one.

But this one was red, but clearly said in its curly writing of awesome “EGGNOG”

And I wasn’t the one to notice this.

“Oh look, eggnog…” said my unenthusiastic friend.

“WHAT?! Eggnog? Where?” said I.

She turned away, and muttered something about chicken-milk…

I, holding a tall carton of delicious, said:

“What? Chicken Milk? Where?”

I started looking for something that said ‘Chicken Milk’ as I thought that would be wild to see. I didn’t think it was right to assume that they had blended milk and chicken together, and somewhere in my mind I knew that since chickens were egg layers, that they didn’t–Couldn’t–give milk like a cow can.

Perhaps chicken stock and milk mixed together?

How strange… I wanna see it!

Friend laughs, and sort-of flops her hand in my direction.

“No, no, just eggnog. Chicken milk… drinking eggs…”

She made a face. I feel like I may have made a face back, but for different reasons.

I know that some people don’t like Eggnog, but it’s baffling to me in the same way that it’s baffling to me that some people don’t like skating. It just doesn’t make sense in my mind.

And I always think that I can change them to fit my sense of ‘right’. Liking eggnog and skating were ‘right’. I love skating and am planning on skating the canal every weekend as soon as it freezes. I love Eggnog enough that my Dad ends up buying three or four cartons of the stuff and storing it on the opposite side of the fridge to the beer. He does this every time he goes shopping, and it’s Eggnog season that has him going to the store to buy more milk AND eggnog.

I’ve learned through my mom and dad telling me to stop chugging the stuff straight to add milk to it, and it now occurs to me that by doing this I have more than twice the amount of eggnog in one carton than I do without. It means that I don’t have to fear overtaking my shared fridge with a number of cartons of the stuff.

It also means that I’m less likely to, for once, actually try to change my friends mind about eggnog. I don’t want to waste it. And calling it Chicken-Milk makes me smile a bit.

I love Eggnog…

My precious…..

GIVE ME MY PRECIOUS!

Insanity is Mean

I realized as I was rereading what I posted before this that Insanity can be mean. A real bitch sometimes, actually.

Insanity is usually pretty fun, even if it’s more than unwise to listen to her. Or him, if you’re a guy.

But Insanity is also the one who creates doubts. Insanity is the voice niggling at the back of your mind, poking at your fatty brain tissue, making fun of your frontal lobe from their position from a dark corner. Insanity is the one to convince you that those people you walked past? Yeah, the ones who were just laughing?

Yeah, they were laughing at YOU.

Why? Because you’re STUPID and UGLY and WEAK. You look like ┬ápussy today, and that guy who just handed you that thing you dropped is thinking you’re a stupid bint.

What’s a bint? You’re so stupid, it’s something that sounds like a british person would say it. a british person probably HAS said it.

British people are cooler than you.

You shouldn’t try to fake an accent, even as a joke though. Because that’s RACIST!

Insanity is the one who also convinces you to do embarrassing things. Especially when you’re not paying attention to Sanity.

This happens a lot when you’re really tired, or, I guess, drunk.

It’s a great idea to text your friend at 4 am. Hm. They aren’t responding. Try calling.

It’s a great idea to try to lick your nose right now.RIGHT NOW. Now see how far you can stick out your tongue. How long is that thing anyway?

You can Dance. You’re a great Dancer. DANCE ALREADY! See, everyone’s eyes are on you, you’re fabulous!

HAH! Trip on air!

You should tell a joke. How about “You just dropped your pocket.” Tell someone that. Now.

Lets paint our hands… then sleep.

Insanity can be fun, yes, but without Sanity alert enough to help our regular mentality filter through the ideas for the good and bad and maybe later, Insanity will lead you to a room you don’t want to be in.

That room will either have bars or a lot of padding on every wall.

In this mysterious room, you will also be given ‘fun’ new clothes. One has extra long arms and straps all over, and the other is classically portrayed as black-and-white striped or Orange.

You don’t want to go to this room.

Listen to Sanity, please.

Don’t wear Paint(ed on) Pants.

Don’t scream randomly in class, no matter how curious you are to see what would happen.

Don’t stay up to all hours of the night unless you have NOWHERE TO BE for the next (at least) THREE DAYS!

Don’t try to tell your teacher an “In your pants” joke.

Use your Sanity filters wisely