The Cubby Jackson Chronicles: Spices

What really frustrates me about visiting Victoria is that nobody eats.

I decide after scooping the guts out of the pumpkins we were carving to save the seeds and bake them, because they are that delicious. I might have been bored and hungry too, but I picked out all the seeds and saved them in a bowl.

Cullen raves about his spices. I’m not sure if he thinks he is some kind of cook, but the dude is proud of them. I think it’s great, I’m pretty excited to make some pumpkin seeds a la Burton.

I lay out all the seeds on a baking sheet and look up to the spice cabinet. When I open it I see a bunch of spices I have never seen before. The odd one, like “dill,” is sitting up-front. The rest are full, almost unopened, and would not be appropriate for what I want to do.

I just want to make some damn roasted pumpkin seeds, all I need is season salt. Cullen doesn’t even have that.

I’m really worried as to what Cullen needs dill for, that stuff doesn’t even taste good. What is he putting it on?

I don’t know what it is, but my Italian urges take over when I’m in London. I just want to feed everyone around me. It’s so messed up because this random personality trait has never surfaced before.

The more attention I pay to everyone’s eating habits, the more concerned I get. I haven’t seen Cullen eat anything, Kelsey only eats stuff that’s beige, and Victoria is too busy taking care of her skinny pig Reginald to even consider boiling up some broccoli.

You would think that Cullen would buy some food with his money. Real food. Not that package of fancy cold cuts, not spices, maybe some pasta, chicken, fruit.

Cubs doesn’t have that much money, his career selling knives hasn’t exactly taken off. The poor guy, I don’t see him work much either. He is usually lounging with his pony tail, reading a book, watching Star-Trek.

“Oh I’m selling knives Burton!”

“Really?” I ask. I’m only egging him on because I want to hear more.

“Yes, why, all I have to do is make appointments with people to show them a demonstration! It isn’t even commission based.”

He explained his job in great detail, even offered up a demonstration. For whatever reason I declined the offer, once Cullen gets going, he gets going. It will be hard to get him to stop. I hear he can cut a penny, and he’ll puts on this entire infomercial-like speech.

Tragically, Cullen doesn’t know many people in the London area, and well, that translates an otherwise exciting door-to-door knife selling career, into lonely days watching television.

Poor Cullen, sometimes I wonder if he misses Georgetown, his man-friend Butters, his life at the coffee shop.

Ever since Cullen and Butters broke up, things just haven’t been the same. I’ve heard many sides to their breakup, but I hear the two of them recently battled it out over Facebook. That is another story.

Oh well I guess.

I was sitting on the couch when I heard Cullen shouting from the kitchen.

“Burton! Can I tempt you with a chicken nugget?”

“Tempt away my friend!”

Cullen made food, what a shock. He walked into the room, placed a plate full of nuggets in the middle of the coffee table, right ontop the Waterloo Dark coaster.

The nuggets, lightly seasoned with dill.

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