||[Mar. 26th, 2010|08:48 am]
I was all ready to write a rant, having seen a sausage, cheese and egg breakfast sandwich made on a glazed doughnut, about the dimming of America's tastebuds...having this week already gone on a tear (you weren't there for it, be glad) about how I wanted to pinion anyone who said "Oh, Costco makes a pretty good cake" and handfeed them a homemade cake to REMIND them, that actually a Costco cake tastes like artificial ass and is just less horrible than the whatever grocery store cake they had last time. Seriously, it does. Taste like ass. Sweet, sugary, hydrogenated, artificial cake-ass. My tongue recoils just thinking about it. |
I beg you, make a cake from scratch this weekend -- no freaking boxes, no freaking cans of icing -- and revel in it's glorious purity and fine taste. THAT'S some buttery, sweet, sugary goodness. Serious cake.
If you can't tell the difference...please don't tell me, because I will probably put you in detox.
Whoops. Looks like my previous rant on cakes is in re-runs. Lucky you! Thankfully, you're only getting the Reader's Digest abridged version. Unless you're a huge fan of expletives, arm waving and various baking ingredients being used as props. In which case, well, I dunno, come over some time and bait me. I've got a hair trigger.
Anyhoo, I was going to do that rant -- I mean, really, that breakfast sandwich is just about excess -- I can be more excessive than YOU. And right now, America, frankly, you need to rein that sh*t in. Control yourselves. It's bad enough we're known as fat and loud and tasteless. But now we seem to be trying to outdo each other in toddler-behavior. Big, giant fat-ass toddlers in red, white and blue polyester tracksuits, having temper tantrums, sulks, whacking each other with blocks on the playground, vying to see how much we can have. Not only can I have a giant two-person serving of sausage and eggs and cheese, but rather than put in on a high-calorie, low-nutrient bagel, I can put it on a sugary, deep fried doughnut. Yay, ME, I am the KING of EXCESS!
Not to mention, taste-wise, there is just too much going on for that to taste good. That's three different fats vying for attention. If you think it tastes good, that's just your tastebuds surrendering, screw it, batten down the hatches, fellow buds and see if we can live through this.
But now I can't do that rant, I cannot pick on fellow citizens, because this morning, while looking for something completely different, I found a package of Hostess Snowballs hiding behind a box of barley, and you would have thought I found the Holy Grail of Food. Ooooh!
Damn it. Nothing like a package of artificially colored and flavored, partially hydrogenated snack crap to take the wind out of the sails of your righteous indignation.