I have no aida cloth.

Look, I like watching TV as much as the next 30-something-year-old-woman, all right? But sometimes TV just isn't enough, you know? Since Hannibal cleans the entire house every day out of sheer boredom, and Johnny and Robert both make more than enough money with their fancy-bum jobs to keep us so far out of debt that our non-debt pile might as well be Mount Everest, TV tends to be the only thing I have to do all day. Especially when my son isolates himself in his room texting and listening to Korn, and as a result, I don't even have him to keep me company.

When I get like this - that is, when it gets to the point where I'd rather like to annihilate my televisions against the wall - I do something that probably doesn't sound like something I would do at all. But nonetheless, I do it.

I cross-stitch.

It's so unlike me, I know.

I wish I could cross-stitch today, considering everyone appears to be either grossed out with, pissed off at, or purely on bad terms with everyone else, and as a result, I am Bored with a capital B. But I cannot cross-stitch because I have no aida cloth. Which, for those you don't know, is the fabric... thing... one cross-stitches ON.

They sell it at Wal-Mart, but I'm afraid that if I come home with a Wal-Mart bag, Michael will sense it and have a nervous breakdown.

Sigh.

So, since I cannot cross-stitch, here I am, updating my blog. Like I said, everyone's taking a fit at everyone else currently, so nothing much is really happening at the mo. Thus, I will amuse myself by giving you an account of everyone's issues right now. Should kill at least five minutes.

Robert vs. Myself
I had a frank talk with him yesterday for quoting Epicure excessively. The only philosopher I can tolerate being quoted excessively in this household is Aristotle. And Robert knows this. But yet I'm the bitch. Well excuse me King of the World.

Robert vs. Hannibal
Robert dislikes Hannibal at the moment because of an... incident... with the downstairs toilet. Don't ask.

Hannibal vs. Johnny vs. the wok
Johnny became angry at the new wok, who apparently "has an attitude". Hannibal dislikes this because according to him, woks are INANIMATE OBJECTS and thus CANNOT HAVE AN ATTITUDE. And it angers him excessively that Johnny is being so dramatic when HE is the one who washes it, and blah-blah-blah. Long story short, Hannibal ended up throwing the wok into Mary-Sue Vrees's yard, where it was then run over by Alfred Benedict, who was driving his plough, drunk, on the lawn. The wok is now disfigured completely, and Johnny is really furious with Hannibal.

Myself vs. Johnny
Johnny and I currently are not getting along because, er, I agree with Hannibal. And he refuses to accept this. But I don't give a shit. :O

Myself vs. Michael
IN REGARDS TO THIS WEEKEND. ENOUGH SAID.

Michael vs. Jason
Who are currently arguing like an old married couple over text messages.

Michael and Jason vs. C'Dward Eullen
My expert manipulator of a child has managed to fully convert Jason to "Team Not-C'Dward", it seems, because the latter apparently told C'Dward off when C'Dward sat with them at lunch and later attempted to give Jason a hug. I'm so sorry, Matilda... I thought my life was shitty at the moment, I can only imagine the drama at your house.

Jason and Freddy vs. Myself
They're pissed at me for keeping Mike grounded this long. Bet they thought I couldn't do it! Haha, showed them all right. Still, it's awkward because they keep egging my house.

Lispeth vs. Michael
Despite the fact that Bertha was always asleep before they had their little "liquor escapades", this does not change the fact that a large, large quantity of alcohol was stolen from her by our three little miscreants. Sigh. I know the teenage years are the worst, but do they really have to be this bad?