Tuesday, November 22, 2005
And Let Us All Now Give Thanks...
As I mentioned yesterday, Roommate Liz cooked like a fourteen-course meal for us on Sunday. Seriously, there was a 22-pound turkey involved. Many bad jokes were made about the baster. She also made stuffing and whipped cream from scratch, which I'm not even sure I knew was possible. So yeah, I basically ate enough for any three people, assuming that one of those people is not Starr Jones.
I contributed, too, though, through my artful holiday centerpiece. It's a cornucopia, damn it. I'm not really sure if I've spelled that word correctly, but the point is that I spent hours fashioning something I've never even seen in real life out of construction paper. And I have the paper cuts to prove it. You have to suffer for your art.
I also was in charge of costuming. We went as a slutty pilgrim and slutty indian. Because the holidays are all about the sluttiness. The hat is made out of a pie tin; the ruffle I already owned.
And there's really no reason to cook unless people agree to let you wear a "Kiss the Cook" apron. We looked for one that said "Unceremoniously Grope the Cook," but they are hard to come by.
As I mentioned yesterday, Roommate Liz cooked like a fourteen-course meal for us on Sunday. Seriously, there was a 22-pound turkey involved. Many bad jokes were made about the baster. She also made stuffing and whipped cream from scratch, which I'm not even sure I knew was possible. So yeah, I basically ate enough for any three people, assuming that one of those people is not Starr Jones.
I contributed, too, though, through my artful holiday centerpiece. It's a cornucopia, damn it. I'm not really sure if I've spelled that word correctly, but the point is that I spent hours fashioning something I've never even seen in real life out of construction paper. And I have the paper cuts to prove it. You have to suffer for your art.
I also was in charge of costuming. We went as a slutty pilgrim and slutty indian. Because the holidays are all about the sluttiness. The hat is made out of a pie tin; the ruffle I already owned.
And there's really no reason to cook unless people agree to let you wear a "Kiss the Cook" apron. We looked for one that said "Unceremoniously Grope the Cook," but they are hard to come by.