This post is alternately titled:

Bringing Back Duh

Those heavenly chocolate chip cookies I made the other day are, wait for it, yes, heavenly.  I love them.  I love them with a fiery passion.  I have loved all 75-82 of them I have eaten.  I loved and appreciated each one in it's own unique way for it's own special gifts and qualities.  Of course I did.  Jesus, I'm not a barbarian.

However, I am a bit disappointed at the effect they are having on my body.  (But that does not diminish my love.  That is unconditional.)  I've read that you can combat fat with fiber.  Heeded not did I.  Heeded not.  Damn!  I should have sacked them full (yeah, you can sack things full.  Try it.  Duh.)   I don't often find use for the word distended.  However, no other word quite describes what is going on with my former stomach, now a gut, quite like distended.   It is.  Distended.  Shit!  ...wish I could....

I would load up on fiber (i.e. sack myself full of it) like I was going for the gold in constipation olympics, but tomorrow is my first day of lecture and that would be... awkward.  Memorable, but awkward.  "Hello scholar-lovelies.  I have consumed 87 servings of fiber to combat my distended gut due to a love of glorious chocolate chip cookies and a disregard for moderation.  Now, you must excuse my while I cherry bomb the toilet with the innards of my bowels.  Feel free to read ahead."

Don't I paint a lovely picture?  Don't you want to be my friend?  I am not at all gross.

Also, I have decided that I like to use "duh"when I am on the interweb.  That is the most appropriate place for it, after all, where the whole world can have access to its witty essence.  Also, just so we are clear, I only use it as a 12 year old smart ass with braces, bad hair and attitude-eyes would use it.  That is, after all, the only appropriate use for such a word.  Duh.

And, if we know anything about anything, it is that I am the epitome of appropriate.  Duh.

Until we meet again,
Me
Duh, who did you think it was?

This post is alternately titled

The delicious cookies born of DOOM and DISASTER!

Once upon a time in a village far far away lived a girl (used very loosely here) who desperately wanted to be skinny.  So much so that she even got a gym membership and used it regularly.  However, one fateful day in early september, her ever present craving for chocolate chip cookies became so powerful that she said, 'Imma make me some of those!'

This cookie making session began like any other, by locating the chocolate chips, of course.  Alas, upon reading the recipe on the package, our heroine was unsatisfied  decided to look up the toll house recipe on line (this one).  Our heroine, lady that she was, said "Ah hell nah!  I can't be having all that mess! Imma substitute regular flour for whole wheat and half the butter for organic low-fat-vanilla yogurt and all those sugars for raw sugar."  Secretly, she knew that she would be eating at least 75 of the cookies so this only made sense.

Our lusty heroine (why not, right?  There aren't any pictures here...) put the stick of butter in the microwave and heated it for 10 seconds as she dumped the sugar in <strike>my</strike> her mixing bowl.  With the help of her fine skills of observation, she realized that the butter wasn't quite softened enough so another 10 seconds was thought to fix that.  Into the bowl the butter went.

After mixing for a moment, she realized that her amazing powers of observation might not have been quite so amazing and the butter might not be quite softened after all.  Of course, the only logical thing to do in order to dislodge the too-hard butter from the mixer mixing thingy was to get her blow dryer.  Duh.  BOOM!  Worked like a charm!

Once the butter was actually softened and all fluffed into the sugar and vanilla, enter the eggs!  Now, our heroine being the master of efficiency she truly was saw no need to stop the mixer and raise the head to crack the eggs.  Rather, she cracked one on the side, but in a stroke of bad luck, most likely the result of some sort of curse, half the egg shell fell into the mixing bowl!  Forsooth!  (that fits here, right?)

Our lovely heroine tried to pull out as much of the egg shells as possible, but again, her powerful urge for cookies kicked in and she said, "fuck it" and went on with the business of making her own personal ambrosia.

The cookies, born of doom and disaster, with the help of a multi-purpose kitchen tool, aka a blow dryer, turned out delicious and delightful, albeit crunchy.  As a result, everyone lived happily every after and there was piece on earth.

The end.

PS- As for mixers, that'a the one I have and I LOVE it!!