Cookie party prize winners (L to R: Natali, honorable mention for her snickerdoodles; Jill, best looking for her ice cream cookie sandwiches; Seven, most creative for her cookie hamburgers; Ann, best tasting for her peanut butter cookies; me, tackiest for my sugar cookie disasters)
Over the weekend I won another award. I swear to God you guys, the accolades are coming fast and furious which is just the risk you take when you’re extraordinarily gifted, I suppose. (more…)
Ho, ho! Get it? Get my clever headline? It’s not that clever. Anyway.
Why is it that these taste better than eggs I make myself? Is it because they’re “hard cooked,” which sounds elegant and mysterious and kind of British as opposed to hard boiled which just sounds mundane? Is it because, if this bag of hard cooked eggs could speak it would say, “Hey asshole, you can make me at home for a fraction of the cost. That is, if you can bear the struggle of turning on a stove and peeling some shells. Now put me back in the boot of your car, mate.” Maybe.
But see, they have a rubbery texture that I actually like that I can’t achieve when I boil eggs at home. Plus boiling eggs on a stove leads to a farty smelling kitchen versus limiting the fart smell to a bag. They should really include that in their advertising.
At the grocery store earlier, which was a certain kind of hell, I once again cracked up when I saw a box of broccoli spears in the frozen aisle. Have I already written about this? See, I see the broccoli spears and then I imagine a spoof of Britney Spears where a character says her name is Broccoli Spears and then I laugh. It gets me every time. Also, it’s why I’m single.
When it comes to social interactions I prefer to have them with a mic in my hand or a camera in my face. Tonight I mixed with people unknown to me without all that though. Just me, my bongos and a bottle of Wild Turkey. Minus the bongos and Wild Turkey.
I went to a party with Red Eye pal John Roy where I met a guy (funny comedian Pete Holmes) who draws actual cartoons for the New Yorker. I got all excited and tried to explain that I draw fake cartoons for the New Yorker but I don’t draw them, I just think them up, and I never send them in because it’s not about that. I think he was suitably impressed. Then I mentioned that some of my fans have actually drawn them but what I really meant to say was, “Did I mention I have fans?”
And then I had a horribly awkward exchange with a woman by the crudite, but it’s late and I’m too tired to write it out. Perhaps tomorrow, my dears. It involves slippery bell peppers and tongs.
I did not make toast. I know this because I don’t have a toaster. I don’t even have bread. Yes, I could have made imaginary toast with imaginary bread in the over or broiler or on the stove, but I didn’t, because that’s not the kind of thing I would do. And yet it smells strongly of toast in here, and not just any toast but burnt toast, and it’s coming from my hair dryer which I just used to blow hot toast air all over my head. I smell like a bakery accident.
So why don’t I just replace my hair dryer? Are you kidding? The thing cost like 8 million dollars. It’s made from baby otters and white truffles. It has tourmaline in it which is so fancy it’s not even a real chemical and it does something with ions that probably doesn’t hold up to real science either. I think it might run on nuclear energy.
So then why don’t I consult the warranty? Are you crazy? Are you hearing anything I’m saying? I don’t even have bread in my apartment. Why would I possibly still have the warranty? Obviously I slathered peanut butter on it and ate it ages ago.
If you’re like me then you love seeing me on TV. Good news: I’ll be back on Fox & Friends this Sunday doing the Fast Forward segment. It’ll probably be at 9:45am but that could change so please check my blog every hour on the hour if not more frequently and ask all your friends to do the same.
In other news, I’ve become a fan of this:
It’s very low-calorie somewhat artificial tasting weird consistency maple syrup. I like to pour a blob of it in a cup and then stir in a packet of Splenda and then put it in the freezer and make a little syrup puck which tastes sort of like maple and sort of like a hockey puck.
