The Stench


after over-indulging in vokda all weekend i vowed that things would be different.  
like a herald – i declared:

i will go to the gym on all the days!
i will not drink on all the school nights!

but alas – that lasted one day.  

because i went home and made the mistake of looking in the door of the fridge and spotted a half a bottle of champagne.  it was all down-hill from there.  

but i will say this – given the right mood, and the right alcohol – i can become extremely motivated.  which was the case the other night.  when i whipped up dinner and dessert but ate too much of the dessert that i only had three bites of the actual dinner.

my stomach hurts just thinking about it.  and so does my head.

i found a recipe called chicken in tarragon cream sauce (fyi, shitler is useless because when i called home to have him check to see if i had tarragon he thought i was fucking with him because he’d never heard of it before).  but the recipe. is. delicious.  well, the three bites i had anyway.

so in all seriousness.  you should make this.  because if i can make it and not fuck up then that means a monkey could probably fucking do it too.  which speaks volumes of the monkey.

but  moving on to more important things – i also made these:

but seriously.  i’ll never understand how this:

ends up looking (and then in turn, tasting) like this:

a few notes.

here is the recipe for the chicken.  i’m too lazy to type it all up.

here is the recipe for the banana bars.  if you look at the recipe and then realize that mine have white frosting and the original ones have nutella frosting and you’re wondering why; it’s because i don’t even know where the fuck to look for nutella.  and frankly, i would feel real douche-y buying nutella.  i also have an aversion to nutella.  mainly because i took french in high school and my teacher, madam moran, was a raging bitch who loved nutella.  and loved to pronounce it in that douche-y way you’re supposed to when you’re taking french and who was always trying to get me to join the french club and do skits at competitions but the bottom line is that i barely knew how to conjugate my verbs.  so that’s the backwards explanation about why i didn’t make nutella frosting and i just used the cream cheese stuff out of the carton.

sidenote, in case anyone was ever wanting to do some sort of fucked up science experiment in which you leave a salad in the backseat of your hot car for two weeks – i would advise against it.  but in the event that you do decide to conduct such an experiment and you’re looking for a hypothesis – might i suggest, “if i leave a salad in my hot car for two weeks then it will smell like a dead body.”

so you’re welcome.

plus it seems only fitting that a post that began with delicious food would end with food that was probably breeding maggots.

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2 thoughts on “The Stench

  1. JustcallmeB says:

    Nutella is by the peanut butter. And is the salad the bad thing you spoke of?

  2. […] in true mac-fashion we came home to the destroyer of all things pillow and also an entire plate of banana bread bars: he’s such a […]

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