Sunday, November 18, 2007

First place

If there were ever a prize for this sort of thing I think I would win. At least I'd be a runner-up or considered for some type of award like a diamond encrusted trash can or a sweet title such as Miss Congealed.

To give you some back story and an itty bitty explanation of how my brain works I live by the philosophy that if it doesn't matter to me it doesn't matter. Now, I'm not talking about things on a global scale but more like what goes down in my own house. I don't care about the dead spiders in my bathtub because I don't use that bathtub. It has a straight back, which is very uncomfortable, and is shallow with an emergency drainer thingy in the middle so if I want to soak in a luxurious bath with smelly oils and a trashy magazine I get a crick in my neck and my tits get cold. Not my idea of a spa night.

Others might be horrified at the thought of an arachnid graveyard in their tub but eh, I never think about it unless company is coming. Also, stuff magically goes invisible on me and can remain transparent for years. The elliptical torture machine I purchased with my tax return last year was placed in prominent view next to the dining room table. Totally disappeared from my vision and I had to step over it to answer the phone! Same with the 10 extra feet of TV cable that is hanging under my bar that's been there since I moved in 9 1/2 years ago. I just don't see it.

And lets not even talk about what's shoved in cupboards, drawers and under beds.

Pair that disorder with my mother's mixed messages of "you need to get rid of this junk" then giving me all of hers I've somehow, in the many moves I've made in I don't know how many years, inherited a plethora of sundries and kitchen paraphernalia from her that I have no crapping idea why she would think I need or want. Things like a bottle of liquid smoke, sterling silver nut picks and half a tube of anchovy paste.

Normally I wouldn't blink at such clutter way down towards the bottom shelves on the fridge door, since usually I'm only interested in the diet Coke and cheese and when I open the door 18 times in a row hoping for a tasty snack to appear, I ignore everything that doesn't have the word Whiz in it. But tonight when I was cleaning it out, in anticipation of my family coming for Thanksgiving and making room for the 4 tons of food I think we need to feed 5 people for 1 meal, I was stunned to find this:

syrup 1

And upon further inspection, I noticed this:

syrup 2

That's 1985 y'all. Eightyfuckingfive. Twenty 2 years ago. Twenty plus Two.

With that kind of longevity I didn't have the heart to throw it away. Now. Who'd like some pecan pie?

10 comments:

sugapie said...

Oh you beeyaaach!! I just screamed so loud with laughter that I woke the hub and kids. BEST POST EVAH!!

Does it say $1.19 on the price tag?I am going to the store tomorrow to check and see what a new one costs.

Heidi (not klum) said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! There is a store that actually sells food stuff that old (okay maybe not quite that old but close).
Yep, went in one time with John, have not been back. I've nick- named it the salmomella store, bet they'd love to have that bottle from you.

Wonder what would happen if you did make something wit it?

Avalon said...

So what exactly were you cooking in 1985? Or were you actually using it for cooking?

NouveauBlogger said...

lol

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BipolarLawyerCook said...

Oh my goodness. Well, if it ain't moldy, it's probably fine for pies. Besides, baking ought to take care of any remnant bacteria.

little bitchass said...

OMG Betty, you are precious! You really know how to get me laughing! I really needed that today! Thank you!

little bitchass

Joan said...

I can't believe you threw it out. Aged syrup is hard to come by.

AliBlahBlah said...

The sad thing is that syrup was probably just as good as it ever was (!)

I'm with you on the 'if it doesn't bother me thing', a fact I'm realizing on a daily basis with my Mother in Law living here. No my daughter's hair does not need washing! No she probably should not be chewing that pen. Come on lady, she's alive - that should be good enough for anyone!

Sheesh!

Bitter Betty said...

Joan, you goob! I didn't throw it out! How could I? That thing will be with me until it evaporates.