The Cheeseblog

Yesterday amidst a mostly pleasant maelstrom consisting of: a head clogged with all the snot in the world, the enthusiastic drumming of a bad cover band – no, forget everything you’ve heard prior to this moment, BAD cover band, like all CCR and Matchbox 20 all the time BAD – and the sweet, pink smell of raspberry shooters, I met with good friends for beer and received many splendiferous gifts. I like to put gifts on my head. How convenient, then, that two of the gifts are scarves.

But sometimes putting things on my own head is only fun for a little while.

He thought it might be fun at first.

It wasn’t. But he humoured me because he knew I wasn’t feeling well.
Also he was distracted by the camera strap which is made of string.

They grow up so fast. But that’s why I keep a catt and a husband.
The fun never ends!

pudding.

Who of you silent readers knew that a cold medicine capsule and Busta Rhymes could make a sinus-issue-ridden girl dance with her catt in her kitchen?

I sure didn’t know.

The advantage to rarely consuming pain killers is that my tolerance for them is very low and it don’t take much to fly me sky high to the sky oh why because it’s so high.

The advantage to not having been drunk in over a month is that my overall tolerance for things that mask pain is very low, halving the time it takes me to fly sky high to the sky oh why because it’s so high. Hi!

The advantage that seems to be laughing its ass off at me right now is the mis-assumption that if I didn’t get drunk for a month I would somehow be healthier and would not get a cold.

Poor timing on my part: it’s my birthday tomorrow. I always get sick for my birthday. I’m beginning to think I was sick on my actual day of birth and that’s why I shook my fists at the cameraman. I was told there were good drugs at the end of the birth canal. Where the hell are my good drugs? My sinuses are barely formed and they’re fucking killing me!

Another day: The story of: My eternal quest for the good drugs.

Tomorrow I will turn 30 with a cold. At least it’s not strep throat. (birthdays 4-17) And at least now I have Busta.

Do not put cheese on apple crisp or apple pie. Do not do not do not. It is wrong. You may put whipped cream or ice cream and that is it. Chocolate something maybe. Not cheese.

Thank you.

This one goes out to my homie Sarah and her belly full of banana. Because I know she already has all these ingredients except the apples.

Apple crisp is one of those foods I always thought was mysterious, fantastic, difficult. Like pie. But apple crisp is not hard like pie! You get apples (yesterday I used 3 apples but you can use as many as you want), you peel them, you slice them, you put them in a baking dish and sprinkle them with cinnamon. An option, too, is to pour something good over the apples. One time I used maple syrup which made the apple crisp tooth rottingly sweet. Still good, but so so so sweet.

Yesterday I made VANILLA APPLE CRISP and I poured vanilla and vanilla vodka over the apples. It was pretty good, but not as good as I’d hoped. I maybe should have added more vanilla. But it was the right sweetness.

Oh my apple crispy sweetness. How many moments have we shared.

Then you cream together and put on top:

3/4 c flour
1/2 c brown sugar
1/2 c butter
3/4 c oats
salt

I ate that part right out of the bowl. Goddamn. Brown sugar and butter mushed together is the food of the happiest, shiniest people of all. I bet that’s all Beyonce eats.

Then you bake it
bake bake it
bake it bake bake it
bake it bake bake it
bake it like a pan of ap-ple crisp. (35 min at 350) And then you eat it.

Apples = fruit! S’good for you!