Today I was cruising the internet superhighway, mostly looking to see if anyone has heard of me (so far, no one has), but also to find a great dessert. Not for me to bake, of course, that’s silly. By the time you drive to the store, buy all the ingredients, come back, put it all together, bake it, and wait for it to cool, you could’ve gone somewhere and just paid for it, stuffed your piehole really quickly, be done with it, and it would’ve only cost 1/3 of the price.
Plus, you can disguise yourself if you don’t want to be seen…. plus, you wouldn’t have the entire baked thing sitting on your kitchen counter calling out to you every hour, saying “Eat me”. Well, more like 20 minutes since there’s no point in waiting a full hour to get more. The sooner you get rid of it, the better, so you’re not tempted to eat some every day for the entire week.
Or at least, that’s my logic.
Well don’t just sit there all smug, I’m sure you do the exact same thing. And don’t tell me you don’t because that would be bullshit! Anyone who has a tempting dessert sitting on their counter doesn’t stuff at least half of the thing in their mouths in one afternoon. And in the outrageously bizarre event that you don’t, there’s something seriously wrong with you, Jesus Christ!
By the way, did you know that Jesus has a middle name? I don’t know what the hell it is, all I know is that it starts with the letter H. Seems no one knows what it stands for, which I just do not understand. I mean, it’s Jesus we’re talking about here, not some obscure character we only know about from some stupid book written over a thous…
w a i t a second…
Anyway, in my quest for finding out if anyone knew me online (under the guise of searching for the perfect dessert), I was reading all these horrible comments about people, from other people, who were hiding behind anonymous online profiles, and I was absolutely stunned that they could be so mean and judgmental!
It just seems people have left their manners at the door, if they ever had any to begin with, and feel totally justified in writing whatever the hell they want without any consequences whatsoever. Probably because at the end of the day, no one will ever find out who they really are. Kinda like Jesus.
Me? I would never use an anonymous computer profile to justify being mean and judgmental, especially after I’ve taken up yoga. Well, I didn’t “take it up” really, I just took one class, only because it’s just too goddamn annoying and s l o w. I know it’s healthy and all, but I don’t have time to sit there and… and… breathe, for crying out loud!
Plus, have you seen some of the people who go to yoga class? Boy, are they some pious assholes! They act like they’re soooo “centered” with their goddamn designer yoga mat and Lululemon stretchy pants which, by the way, some should seriously reconsider!
In fact, some bitch almost ran my ass off the road in her goddamn BMW ‘cause she was late! She came screeching through the parking lot, racing for the spot right in front, then she whipped out her handicap placard with impunity and walked her tight ass through the front door while yapping on the goddamn cell phone! But hey, your asshole-ness is absolved after an hour of yoga practice now. It’s the new Catholicism; give me ten downward dogs and a head stand and you are forgiven!
You know what? I hate goddamn yoga assholes, I’m not going to take classes anymore. Maybe I should take up Thai Qwon Doh, or whatever the hell you call it. Then I’d just have to put up with all those Asians instead… easier.
I’ve been making healthier choices when it comes to stuffing my face though; I’ve cut the sugar down to only 50 grams a day, which is not bad if I compare it to all the grams of coke I did in the Eighties. No, I’m kidding, no one can do that much coke in one day, it would be impossible… not that I didn’t try. Nowadays my drug of choice is sugar. Well, that and butter… and caffeine… and alcohol… and bread… and sex…
…ooooh, sex sounds so good right now! Too bad I’m not getting any on account of me being single and all. No wonder I’m eating so much sugar.
Listen, I could probably get it any time I want, but I can’t just go sleeping around, it’s not my nature. I always wanted to be a slutty whore, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I have a fear that the guy’ll be packing a water pistol when what I really want is a .357 Magnum. Can you imagine how disappointing?!
No, I’ll just stick to the sugar and butter mixed together. I found a stellar interpretation of this combo at Mastro’s in the form of their Butter cake. Holy cow (no pun intended) it’s awesome! It’s dense, yet light at the same time, creamy, yet… yet… creamy (I couldn’t find a good synonym in Thesaurus), buttery and rich and oh, it’s goddamn delicious!
If you’ve never been there 1. that tells me you just can’t afford it, and 2. I don’t know what the second one is and it doesn’t matter; you can’t afford it. Loser.
If you truly want to go on account of my talking about this delicious cake, then I suggest going with about five or six of your friends, taking up a huge table, ordering all waters with sliced lemon and one Butter cake to share. That’s what I did…
at least you’d be able to say you’ve eaten at Mastro’s to those that give a shit. Me, I’m non-judgmental, I don’t care either way.
Mastro’s Thousand Oaks
2087 E. Thousand Oaks Blvd.
Thousand Oaks, CA