WE MEET AGAIN

Recently, the fam and I went to La Carolina del Norte. A lot of stuff happened. Some stuff involving goats. And worse. But we’re not going to relive any of that. Best to repress those memories as soon as possible. Before the horror sets in. The only thing I want to talk about–the only thing worth focusing on–is my latest run-in with an old nemesis; THE PANCAKE MACHINE.

GET OUT OF MY BRAIN, GOAT!

Jill booked our stay at the Holiday Inn Express not knowing that evil waited in the breakfast area. Or even that there was a breakfast area. She booked the hotel stay knowing nothing.

We walked in and before we even got to our room I saw this.

PANCAKE MACHINE at jeffandjillwentupthehill.com

So much evil.

Pancakes in a minute flat. Nightmares to last the rest of your days.

If you didn’t click the link I so thoughtfully supplied, then you just need to know that the pancake machine pictured above shits out pancakes that you’re supposed to eat.

Listen, Jeff, you already told everyone about this stupid machine. Why don’t you talk about your trip to the Marbles Kids Museum?

F**K you.

The first time I encountered this machine, I was too shocked and traumatized to do much about it. This time I captured video of the machine in action:

It’s like a pancake printer. You’re eating the facsimile of a pancake, fully aware with each spongy bite, that a machine just shit it out for you.

Yes, yes this horse is dead and thoroughly kicked. Now how about the meet and greet you attended? You met a fellow homeschooler and had a nice chat, no?

ANYway, this time I also had the rare opportunity to look inside this beast.

You’re ignoring me??

It malfunctioned and its human servant had to attend to it. This servant lady was batshit crazy, by the way. Not that I blame her–tirelessly harvesting pancake shit for a never-ending stream of guests would take a heavy toll even on  the healthiest psyche.

But when she opened it, I seized the opportunity to grab a photo.

Seriously?

Here it is:

INSIDE THE PANCAKE MACHINE BEAST at jeffandjillwentupthehill.com

Not pictured: the screams of the damned.

It’s not the best shot because: 1. I took it and 2. I took it quickly because that servant human lady was batshit CRAZY. If she caught me taking snaps, she would have stabbed me with one of those plastic disposable knives, breaking it off, making me bleed out.

That pic shows you the space where the bag of pancake shit normally sits. I saw this bag. It looked like a colostomy bag full of pancake shit. Because it was. Batshit Crazy Lady took it out and slapped it on a table and yelled at it for a while before taking it into a back room where I could hear running water. She may have been water boarding it. Shortly after the running water stopped, she’d return to place the bag back in the PANCAKE CRAP extractor machine where it was tortured for its unholy harvest.

I think people would rather hear about the Naylor Family Farm trip. Or Rainbow Lanes bowling. How about the Buffaloe Road Aquatic Center? Can’t you make stupid-ass jokes about the way they spell Buffaloe???

I can’t be sure, but I think that metal bar squeezes out exactly a poop’s worth of pancake from the colostomy bag. Then it’s heated to a golden brown. And shat out.

PANCAKE CRAP at jeffandjillwentupthehill.com

Actual Pancake Shit

Every morning, my youngest son would ask for “pannacakes.” It never stopped being adorable. And I would dutifully push the button. And I would cry inside. I would offer alternatives even as the progress bar told me how close I was to serving shit to my child:

“Hey buddy, you want yogurt? Strawberry yogurt?”

“Pannacakes!”

“Ooh, look! They have hardboiled eggs! You love those!”

“Pannacakes!”

“What about cereal? They have Froot Loops! Goddamned bona fide f**king Froot Loops!”

“Pannacakes!”

Slap. Out craps the pancake.

“With syrup, please!!”

And then I’d put it on a styrofoam plate with more nutritional value than the pancake and cut the pancake into bite-sized pieces and drown those pieces in syrup and try hard to think about anything other than the grunting noises the machine made when it was crapping my son’s breakfast.

After two bites: “I’m done!”

Then I’d finish what he couldn’t.

Wow. There were tons of memories you could have shared. The joyful bonding among all the little cousins! The scary moment when Ben nearly fell down that flight of stairs! Your kids saw the ocean for the first time in their lives!!! There were even important issues about horrible parenting and pet ownership you could have raised. But you chose the pancake machine. Again. F**k you. Seriously, just f**k you. 

Trust me, it’s better this way. Talking about the PANCAKE CRAP machine was the least offensive way for me to recap that family vacation. Do you think that I WANT to discuss the full grown adult who will never be anything other than an overgrown baby who demands to be coddled every minute of his life in order to compensate for growing up with an iceberg for a mom? Because I’d rather not. By the way, does this mean that you won’t be interrupting my posts in the future?

*muffled, distant* F**k off!

Excellent.

19 Comments

  1. I love that you share with us what the voice in your head is saying, it makes me feel slightly saner.
    That pancake machine is really freaky though, I don’t want to eat anything that I’ve just seen a machine poop out, disgusting! The noises on the video had me laughing like a loon, it was hilarious.
    But seriously, what about the goats??

    • jeffandjill

      10/08/2015 at 7:42 pm

      The goats were at the Naylor Family Farm and they tried to eat my soul through a fence. They didn’t get my soul, but they were able to gnaw at my character.

      • Maybe it will make them better goats instead of soul sucking horned monsters!
        By the way, the pic of you at the top of the page is very artistic.

  2. So, you came to NC for vacation? Glad you enjoyed some of the things we have to offer here!

    • jeffandjill

      10/09/2015 at 6:46 am

      North Carolina is beautiful. Charlotte, NC and Birmingham, AL are on the shortlist of places I’d like to relocate to. But North Carolina was dealing with Joaquin and really not interested in entertaining guests while we were there. But the weather wasn’t what made the vacation bad for me. No, what made it suck, in my opinion, was the absolute [redacted for Jeff’s safety and sanity. Please be assured that Jeff and Jill prize transparency and honesty at every opportunity except in cases where it will result in physical and emotional harm. Thanks for understanding]. So you can see why my vacation was less than ideal. But I love North Carolina. Or NorCar as I call it!

      • I live RIGHT down the road from the farm you mentioned. So, I can only IMAGINE some of the horrors you could have possibly experienced. However, those horrors are always quickly replaced by things like warm temperatures until December; the gorgeous beaches all along the coast; the wonderful mountain towns (to be visited only during the summer-otherwise you run the chance of experiencing temperatures below 80. YIKES!!); the hundreds of breweries.

        • jeffandjill

          10/10/2015 at 10:53 am

          I’m always stunned by natural beauty. Because I come from the flattest land on Earth. But that’s ok, because it’s in a state that’s also bankrupt. Seriously, the horrors that I experienced had NOTHING to do with North Carolina or the Naylor Family Farm. The people working that farm were awesome. My daughter made friends with the little girl whose parents work there and we all had a blast.

          I’ll take North Carolina over Illinois any day.

  3. Oh, come on. You’re going to wuss out?

    Is it THAT time of the month for ya?

    Take a Motrin, lie down right here and tell us about your horrendous experience.

    • jeffandjill

      10/09/2015 at 8:55 am

      Yeah, if I wanted to flick the WAR switch it’s right here next to my Labyrinth Imperial Stout. But I’m warred out. seriously. I just want my imperial stout. And peace.

      Got any midol, though? I’ll take that.

      • I get it. And, you being extra emotional over your cycle may just be the tipping point.

        I’ll be satisfied with whatever fodder you throw our way.

  4. Hilarious. Love that you could make such a humorous post out of a pancake shitter.

    • jeffandjill

      10/10/2015 at 11:00 am

      The most important result of this post is that I discovered Splice: a free app that allows me to make shitting sounds over video.

  5. Pleeeeease tell us about the goats! I love it when you write about goats. I’ll send you some chocolate and a heating pad for your cramping tummy, which works way better than Midol.

    This machine is clearly following you and I would even go so far as to say it can read your mind. It’s mocking you. It knows you wish you had it in your home, for example. The bat shit crazy lady is actually its body guard and she’s protecting it from you, specifically. It wants to be near you, but it wants to maintain control. It’s gotten you to write two posts about it already, and it’s making you talk to yourself again.

    I’m not sure that filming it and adding those lovely sound effects was the best idea. That was very entertaining for us, sure, but you might have pissed the machine off, even though it made you do it. Why do you think it says “Pancakes in a minute flat” on it? Obviously it’s because it knew your mind would associate “flat” with “flatulence.” It’s controlling you now, so please be careful, Jeff.

    Goats are safer.

    • jeffandjill

      10/10/2015 at 10:55 am

      I might have to write another goat post. Like a palate cleanser. The goats like the flavor of my nightmares.

  6. I lived in Durham for 7 years. I highly recommend the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill triangle except for one thing. It is so mother-fucking hot you will die there. And not just July and August hot, but April, May, June, July, August, September, October hot. After seven years I was so tired of hot, I hightailed it to New England (possible mistake).

    March is lovely, though.

    • jeffandjill

      10/10/2015 at 10:45 am

      The first time I was out there, it was August and we rode a mosquito to my in-law’s house from the airport. I sweated out my will to live.

  7. So I don’t usually play videos at work. Figure the sound will distract co-workers. Plus, they’ll be like, she’s not even pretending she works anymore, is she? So pressing play on that video and hearing the Sound That Can Never Be Unheard was pretty much the best and worst thing ever. P.S. I’d still eat those pancakes.

    • jeffandjill

      10/20/2015 at 3:41 pm

      I can’t recreate that grunt. It was part magic. Almost 15 seconds of magic. That’s when I knew I was magic.

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