Ken's Colander

So, it's been a whole year.

I guess things with me do tend to dwindle, that's just my nature I suppose.

I hope things have been good with everyone. I've been pretty good - it's been a busy year, I can't remember how many servings of pasta I've helped created now - and that's before Chicken Chow Mein. Sometimes it can be exhausting work, you know.

And getting over the abuse, of course, I was glad to find out that I wasn't impregnated, unlike the sponge. I took the mickey out of her a lot, that was until she called me a drip. I weeped for weeks.

Ken has been doing well too, still working hard as usual, he had recently got offered a promotion! You'd think this is good news, maybe I would get to strain POSH food, rather than TESCO VALUE items. But NO, he's been CELEBRATING by keep buying Take-away foods. HELLO KEN! TAKE AWAY FOOD DOES NOT REQUIRE DRAINING.

Le soupir, you give a boy money and that's all he'd do to you. He'd promised to use me soon though. Someone help him find a girl, maybe he'd try and impress them with cooking or something.

Actually, you know, soup is liquid, however, you don't normally drain those through a colander either (but why not?).

Lisa knows a colander that's been abused

Well Lisa probably doesn't, but last night Ken has finally found out about the shameful secret I've been trying to hide from him for a while.

I'd been abused.

It all started on one fateful night. I was sitting in my shelf, pining for Ken to open the shelf door and run me through with warm water when the shelf door opened. Instead of the joyous sight of a hungry Ken, it was the evil, evil face of Ken's flatmate, who just ripped me out of the saucepot I was sitting on, and into hell. For the next few minutes I just tried to pretend that I was in a bad dream as he ravaged me, running his dire, filthy grapes into my insides while I shiver in the tears and the freezing water that was being forced upon me.

An eternity later I was left to dry, dirt ridden, soiled whilst the siluette of demon vanished into the distance..

By the time Ken found me sobbing in the sink the deed has been done, Ken was going to confront the man, but the last thing I want now is to be reminded of the horror, the indignity, the shame. I wish my troubles will just drain away.

le soupir...

Since Ken has been neglecting me lately I've taken some time to take up language lessons. Well or maybe just some web-based research. More specifically I've been trying to find the origin of the phrase "le sigh", which always reminded Ken of "Dickhead" because some kid in his German class shouted it out but then told the teacher that he was actually trying to say "Fathead" because Dick means Fat in German. And instead of getting a detention the kid was instead informed that "Dick Kopf" ist "Fat Head" auf Deutsch.

My search proved futiel.all I can find is 9938442 blog entries that referenced this phrase. Buggero mi shiny stainless steel arso. Does anyone know the answer to this?

Hummph.

I am getting the feeling that Ken is neglecting me. And I hate it.

Well he hasn't actually done anything specific, but then I guess that's the essence of neglect. He got his first full month salary paycheque last week, and what did he do? Spend spend spend.

What did he buy? LOTS AND LOTS OF DRIPPY THINGS THAT NEED TO BE DISTILLED. I wish. Nope, he got himself stupid things like a travelcard that lasts a year (what good is a stupid travelcard when your plan is to stay in the kitchen for the rest of the year and drain things?) amongst other things. And lots and lots of electrical fancies that seem to forever occupy his time. I hate it.

Thomas Edison is now my arch enemy, he invented electricity right? He didn't? ARRGH I now hate him even more, and that Alessandro Volta, too, for inventing the battery, and stupid, stupid Benjamin Franklin, stupid man, why did you prove that lightning was electricity? Who needs electricity when you have a bowl with holes? All that water dripping everywhere, you can easily electrocute yourself.

Anyway Ken better stay in tonight and he better use me to make a curry, or he's gonna get himself a hell of a shock.

I'm glad none of you have been neglecting me, though, and leaving me such nice comments. As I was reading through them I felt a trickle down my face as I was so moved, but it could just have been because Ken left the tap running.

long time no sieve!

did you miss me? I hope I haven't been leaving you with a big hole in your heart, I know the feeling when you're full of holes, but that's the curse of being a colander.

Ken has been really busy lately, but not excitingly busy, dully busy - he's even been going out socialising and stuff - boring! He should be at home cooking, and colanding. He's been working too hard, too. Last week he's done a 42 hour working week. Sigh, I guess it's really true that work is the curse of the cooking class.

But things are picking up again, though, since Ken has finally got his car insurance sorted and now he's with wheels! This is a mixed blessing, through the one hole, he can once again drive to the supermarket in order to buy things to drain, on the other perforation, he might spend his whole day driving around again rather than percolating - he loves driving far too much for his own good.

One thing that would keep him at home at least is his romantic solitude. He keeps going on about how he wants someone who can really make him laugh, someone who can really connect with his mind. Sounds like hippies-talk to me. Shame, really, if it's orifices he's after, I've got plenty of those.

Si, mama mia, ciao.

Ken is feeling (insert word here)sick, today. Being (insert word here)ick is like being homesick, but only instead of longing for home you're longing for (insert word here), where (insert word here) includes too many things for a word to describe.

The world would be a better place if people are allowed to have their own section of the language - a bit like how people can register bands of radio wave frequencies. Then maybe I can register for words with prefixes between ASP-AST for me to give words whatever meaning I like. Like how I could well now be using "Asquitadum" to mean:

one's family, places one's visited, people one knew and liked, and generally the kind of good times that one once had but doesn't happen anymore.

So, my Italian greeting at the beginning of this entry, normally I don't speak in any languages other than English, I mean, Asphuck the other languages! They're all Asshit anyway, but last night Ken made some pasta for the first time in this house, and once again me and my partner in crime the garlic press combined forces and mmm I have to say it was yummy.. I was literally drooling chicken stock before Ken had even finished cooking!

With some luck, Ken's going to be making a burrito this weekend, it's going to remind him of Chicago - he hasn't had a burrito ever since he left Chicago - he has never had one before he got there - Ken misses Chicago.

He's been asquitadumsick for a while, to be honest.

Definitions
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ASPHUCK = I can't speak
ASSHIT = too difficult for my stainless steel brain full of holes to master

Aw.

Ken found me a little friend, he went to Ikea the other day and instead of getting furnitures like he should, he got himself a Garlic Press! It is like a mini-me! All stainless steel and full of holes! It is amazing, I was watching it when it turned this lump of garlic into a mush, and the skin stays behind ready to be peeled away. Ken loves it, if I'm not slightly smitten myself my this garlic press I'd probably get jealous of the attention it is getting.

Ken went to Glasgow last weekend too, he looked so much more relaxed than before his trip - I'm so relieved. Let's hope that it stays that way.