The Sorcery of Rice Cookers

Where did I go wrong? Where have I been for, like, the past twenty-something years?

Right. I was locked up like Akon.

Huh. Never realized it was so hard to make money without robbing people. I really took my old profession for granted. Now I’m all goody-two-shoes and broke as Hell. To make things worse, the wifey’s a nut and in jail on who knows how many charges (my momma always told me to stay away from them White women…maybe I should have listened?), which means I have to take care of the lil’ man all by myself.

Do you have any idea what that means?! Now I gotta cook and clean! ****!!!

Dammit. Here I am, sweeping floors and making bologna sandwiches for the lil’ man. **** man, back in the day, when I wanted bologna sandwiches, me and the boys would go and rob this place called the Burnt Toast Diner. Place was great; nice music, good lighting, overall just a great atmosphere! That cook could make one helluva bologna sandwich, too. I have no idea how she did it; my sandwiches always end up looking like liquefied roadkill.

Oh, don’t go and patronize me; before now the only time I would step foot inside a kitchen was to jack cleavers and steak knives for my man Warren; he had some sort of fetish….none of us really asked questions. I don’t think any of us really wanted to know what that was all about. But I digress. Kitchens. They’re crazy! Did you know that there are metal things that cook rice?! They’re called “rice cookers”. **** and here I am thinking that they were called “pots”. But I’m thinking that they could do more than just rice, so I use them to make the bologna sandwiches.

Anyway, money is getting tight, so it’s about time that I get a job. I figure that with all my new kitchen experience, plus being a familiar face, I should have no problem getting a job at the Burnt Toast Diner. I’m hoping for something high up, but if I end up being a bus-boy, it’s all good. Wish me luck!

P.S. I’ve really been thinking about my past lately. I can’t believe I did all those things!

10 Comments

  1. Awesome.

  2. Watch the language, fugative!

  3. rice…cookers? xplain 2 me again, how does such a device cook brains?

  4. Don’t worry baby, I’m coming home.Keep the knives out.

  5. Wow, dad. You really need help.

  6. I hate bologna .

  7. I understand where your coming from.

  8. BTW, baby, I’m loving that new prison tattoo you’re sporting on your back. I noticed it when we were…well, you know, when I was…

    You know what, suffice it to say that it looks great…maybe you should get more…? 😉

  9. bologna
    ooooo I Love Bologna!

  10. Me, I usually order out. It’s not that I can’t cook, but I am tired of burning myself in the process.

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