Pillsbury Assassin

It’s been awhile since my last post for a few reasons. After “The Message” I was artistically drained, work has been a pain in my ass the last couple of weeks with barely anytime to surf or write, and at home, in between dealing with the family, I have been playing Civilization IV like a fucking crack addict to prepare to join my geek friends in an online game.

I’m thinking my wife may really hate me. This past Saturday the kids are out and I’m playing Civilization IV with Alexander the Great kicking my ass. The Furor says she will make hot cinnamon rolls for me so I can eat while I play. Ahh, domestic bliss. A little while later she comes over with milk and three warm cinnamon rolls. I inhale the first one while my Redcoats are struggling to hold off Greek forces from taking London. Yummy.

I pick up the second one as a dozen or so Greek Elephant Brigades are filing into London. This one I bite gently and feel the bottom a little hard, and think it may be a little burnt or something so I bite down hard. Immediate pain shoots through my teeth, I have a dental bridge so it was extra shattering, and also feel something slice my tongue. I pull the cinnamon roll away, blood coming out of my mouth. I guess the scream got The Furors attention as she was walking over as I looked at the bottom of the cinnamon role and I now see the top of a can securely affixed to it. Barely able to speak, I point to the can top so my wife can see it. Laughing, she claims it was an “accident”. The top of the Pillsbury can must have gotten stuck “somehow” she claims. I look over to my PC and London has fallen to the Greeks. Both London and I are hurt, bleeding, and lost.

Shortly thereafter, while picking up Fashion Show, I tell her about the incident. She giggles and says that she doesn’t “think “ The Furor is trying to kill or maim me. She then mentions that at least there are cinnamon rolls at home to munch on, and I tell her it was only one can and we ate them. This information, unlike the information concerning my injury and worries, gets her upset. Right then my wife calls and tells me to stop and get another can of cinnamon roll mix. A little later they sat with my son and his girlfriend eating cinnamon rolls and having a good laugh. My tongue hurts and the Greeks take York. I am the Robotman.