I baked cookies yesterday with only a few major disasters. It all started out innocently enough; I got an irresistible craving for cookie dough
. I tried to satiate it with simpler items, such as the beautiful pineapple
, some classic Rice Chex
cereal, and a lot of Dole
pineapple orange juice. Unfortunately, although my stomach was full, I still needed
some cookie dough. So why not make cookies? I would be able to quench my hunger and
have a lovely byproduct
to eat at my leisure on a later date.
I got out the cookbook and flipped to the familiar page containing the recipe for my ultimate childhood favorite:
Jumbo Candy Oatmeal Cookies
They are to die for. Absolute heaven. Amazing taste experience. Indescribable! I would gladly die for one this very second.
I could only find a medium sized mixing bowl in the cupboard, but thought I would be able to stuff all the ingredients in nonetheless. I was wrong. Before I knew it, there was sugar on the floor, butter in my hair, and three pounds of Quaker Oaks strewn across the kitchen rug. My brother picked this exact moment to walk through the door with his girlfriend and one of her skank ho assistants. I could not handle their confused, bewildered faces when they saw the mess I had created. My usually clean language became extremely foul. It was quite an experience.
I eventually got out the vacuum to take care of the oatmeal and the sugar, along with several other interesting surprises I had managed to drop on the floor without noticing. The oatmeal had managed to get inside the cupboards on the island as well as the drawers and under the rug, too. I was pleased. Luckily the noise of the vacuum was loud enough to drown out most of the four letter words that escaped from my mouth. The butter was removed easily from my hair. Sensible advice to all you cooks out there: if you have hair past your bum, put it in a ponytail or tie your hair in a knot before getting the butter out of the fridge. You will be glad you took the time to see to this small detail.
By the time I had all the dough mixed up and ready to cook, I remembered to turn the oven on. I put all the dough on cookie sheets, leaving enough in the mixing bowl to satisfy my earlier craving. Then Sheena decided she could eat it instead of me. She took the bowl and ran out of the room. I was left with a spoon with minimal amounts of dough stuck to it. I guess Sheena feels she could use an extra pound or two. Maybe she’ll just add it to her substantial and incredibly enormous bosom. To be past the point of a DD cup by the age of 16 is slightly irregular. Perhaps I’m just jealous. I wish I had more massive fat balls protruding from my pectoral muscles.
So all the work was basically for naught. I managed to down six or seven cookies before Sheena and Adam realized they were ready to be eaten. They have no shame when it comes to consuming desserts that do not belong to them.
Today was much better. I awoke at the early hour of ten and enjoyed the stifling humidity cascading over my comforter-and-four-blanket-covered self. My body temperature is sickly. I got out of bed in time to see Bob Barker and the fabulous, entertaining The Price is Right. No other game show host can hold a candle to my Bob. Monty Hall is the closest one shall ever get.
After the show was finished, I went over to Aaron’s house to wake him up. This is a timeless tradition, and one he says he enjoys. Waking up a 6’6” 190lbs guy at noon is not a task I particularly care for. Boys smell funny. Especially when their houses have no AC. But I love him anyway.
We rounded up the clan and managed to get to the beach by four in the afternoon. It was slightly overcast but awfully hot. We played hackey sack for a while, but the sand did not seem to agree with quick movements. The water was calling. The clear blue liquid, gigantic waves and a ferocious undertow. I love Michigan.
I ran for the water full speed, heedless of the fact that my bathing suit was suspect to dislodging itself from my body at any time. Being tall and being thin makes it hard to find a one piece suit that fits, so I abandoned that search long, long ago. Today I go for the bikini style to allow for maximum sunburn. And maximum exposure in situations such as today. Fortunately, I think I managed to enter the water with dignity intact and remain decent for the rest of the trip. Us children swam out as far as we could until no one could touch the bottom because the pressure hurt too much. We estimated it must have been deeper than twenty feet or so. The shore was merely a fading memory. We were all tired as hell. It took half an hour to swim back to shore, the undertow making it impossible to go in a straight line. We spent more time compensating for the pull than actually going towards our final destination. But it was exciting either way, despite the fainting and lung-heaving once we made it back to solid ground.
We soon left for our respective houses. I immediately took a shower upon my return, heavy on the coconut shampoo. Lake water is not exactly as clean as one could wish it to be. I was soon picked up by the oil-burning mitsubishi belonging to Jon. I promptly managed to lose my keys within the interior without my knowledge until later that night.
We went out to eat at J.J. Finnegan’s, the classic choice for fine dining among our group. Lots of good food for a reasonable price… I feel like a commercial. I had my usual chicken fingers, fries and a water. Seth ordered a large margarita that somehow managed to make a few rounds about the table. I wonder how that happened? None of my doing, I assure you.
I am now recovering from an anxiety attack concerning the loss of my keys. I just discovered their lack of existence about two hours ago, and have since made two very desperate sprints to the bathroom due to extreme nausea and the want to act on such feelings. Not something I enjoy.
Aaron and I have managed to network my notebook with his three computers at his mom’s house. I am now networked in two systems. The logistics of it are beyond my understanding or want to understand, but as long as it works, I am happy as a muffin.
This is writeup #2 from
kaytay’s notebook computer.