I know this for a fact. I was just sitting on it eating a slice of cake and damn that thing is nasty. Not the cake, the cake was good. The floor is nasty. It is a veritable hodgepodge/melee/quagmire of horse hair, Megan hair, hay, cat hair (and whatever miscellaneous debris the barn cats bring in with them – seriously, there could be mouse guts), not to mention random bits of foodstuffs that I’ve dropped and most likely purposefully not picked up again because I am a lazy fuck.
In Meganland, eating on the floor is a completely rational, normal and acceptable thing to do. In fact, it’s encouraged. So is drinking on the floor. Usually eating on the floor is limited to ice cream but I decided to be a mite decadent tonight. There is but one rule: No Oreo’s and milk on the floor. That is to be consumed anywhere but. Don’t ask why. We don’t encourage questions in Meganland. Actually, that’s a lie. But Meganland is still very much ruled by martial law.
Ka and might I add, pow.
I think I’ll hang my head in shame and clean my kitchen tonight.