Sunday, 22 December 2013

My cat is a Tea Party Right-Wing Christofascist.

.. who clearly wants me to put the Christ back in Christmas.

Today has been earmarked for weeks as "Shortbread Baking Day". The Cat knows this. The Cat also knows that I call Christmas "Crimbo". I didn't think she minded. Until today.

Until today, I thought The Cat would be our last line of defence come the Zombie Apocalypse, but she's clearly not on my side.

I also thought that the Crimbo decorations, in various plastic bags on the table, were of no interest to her. They've been there for weeks and she's barely pawpatted them. I'm not so naive as to have put up a Crimbo tree. I know she'd be all over that like.. well.... like a 6 month old kitteh on a tinsel-laden tree.

So, the stage is set. Secular Crimbo music on the Ipod Of Doom, The Husbang out of the house, ingredients gathered, butter softening.

The second, and I mean the VERY second I plunge my hands into to shortbread mix, I hear the FUCKING HUGE THUMPY ROLLY SCRATCHY KERPHUFFLE coming from the dining room.

Dripping flour , I race to investigate, only to find:

That, my friends, is a picture of MY CAT STUCK IN A FISH TRAP.

And, while I was dealing with the aftermath of a 6 month old cat rolling around in a fish trap, she got into the kitchen and overturned the cornflour.

Oh, no.. It wasn't me that  SINGLEHANDEDLY (quadropawedly?) RUINED YOUR PAGAN ATHEIST HELLDEMON GODLESS SHORTBREAD despite the trail of paw marks.

And yet, there's more. Whilst cleaning up THAT little mess, she's gone and got herself caught up in the bags containing the Crimbo decorations.. the ones she hasn't touched for weeks and, in attempt to get out, has clawedshreded the Crimbo crackers and broken one of a pair of candle sticks.

She is currently sitting atop Kevin The Snake's tank, flipping me the bird, acting all "I'm totes just cleaning my paws" and smirking at the sound of Kevin striking the glass as she lazily flicks her tail at him.

I am an atheist with a pet snake and I have a fundiefreak jesusfish cat as a pet.

It's 10.46am, I am drinking bourbon and sobbing, so let me leave you with a picture of a cat in a fish trap.

Monday, 2 December 2013

Crimbo 2013

Fuck, it's December.

After last year's great Suet Melt Down In Andersons, I have decided to be vastly more organised. The menu is planned, and the ingredients are being bought as I see them.

We're having a Progressive Crimbo this year, starting off at our place, Casa Della Gecko. I'm planning a bagel bar; with salmon, creme fraiche, capers, bacon, eggs, tomatoes; bread and butter pudding, and bircher muesli.

Except Imma going to flavour the yoghurt with Christmas spices and chocolate.

This is no ordinary yoghurt. No hippie/macrobiotic/profuckingbiotic shit. THIS yoghurt is made with full cream milk, Hell, EXTRA cream milk, with extra cream. And fat. And lark's vomit. CREAM of larks vomit. It's going to harden your arteries simply by existing, bitches. It laughs at 'thick and creamy". It snubs its nose at Lactobacillus casei strain Shirota YIT902. It pwns that shit. 

And then, Imma going to add chocolate. And fruits soaked for a month in scotch.

THIS is going to be the Ermahgard V Nyan Cat V Chuck Norris of yoghurts.

This yoghurt is its own fucking meme, man.

My yoghurt will be an analogy for Tony Abbott, it will be so thick.

 thick and rich.

Okay, I could do better, but I'm on my 3rd bourbon and dry and I can't be fagged, ok? I'll take submissions, if you can improve it. 

Anyway, Imma making my own yoghurt and flavouring the FUCK out of it.. and then I'm adding muesli. 

I realise that for some people, the idea of adding muesli doesn't up the orsum.

It does, believe me. My museli will be like a step towards tastevarna for the yoghurt. 

And if you don't like, there is always bacon, my friend.

Anyway, that's the plan. If you have any suggestions, feel free to leave them here,  and I'll discuss. 

Oh, and breakfast Bloody Mary's with fresh oysters, but that's another post. 

Now, all I have to do is get over the 6th without a complete meltdown, and I'll be fine.