Hands Off My Milk!

Alas--the cardinal is pecking me, and his beak is sharp! Vicious little bugger! (If you've no idea what I meant by that, count yourself lucky.)

Accounts for yesterday's bitchy entry, though.

Speaking of yesterday's entry, I fell victim to the Paradise Lost syndrome, I'm afraid, building up the evil and ignoring the (less juicy) good. Until my ill-fated Shoppers Drug Mart expedition, I'd meant to write about all the nice people in my new neighbourhood. There was the fellow in the elevator, whose name I've forgotten--when I asked him where I might find the mail room, he gave me a tour of the whole first floor, and the street outside. Then, there was a beggar across from the Toyota dealership, who pointed out that my bootlaces were not only undone, but tangled together in a way that was bound to trip me up sooner or later. There was the shop lady who tucked the milk-carton back into the crook of my arm just before it could smash itself on the floor, and the kid who held the door open for me at the pharmacy. Everywhere, everywhere, there were nice folks swarming around, and I had to write up the slap-happy cunt.

Admit it, though--she was more interesting to read about, and all! Hah. Sod the nice folks. Even I could hardly stay awake through their paragraph, and I was writing it. Should've had myself pull a one-night stand with the elevator guy, or launch a frivolous lawsuit against the milk-lady, based on a line in the Canadian criminal code which suggests that invading someone's personal space constitutes assault. I could see the scandal paper headline now: SOCAR TO SAMARITAN: HANDS OFF MY MILK! Sounds vaguely obscene, doesn't it?

Oh, where's my Christmas spirit? Am I not the scroogiest of Scrooges, holed up in my Rat's Nest, taking potshots at the world?

I have nothing nice to say, so, with my characteristic inability to say nothing at all, I shall leave you with this monument to the gruesomely impalatable:

RECIPES FOR REALLY, REALLY POOR FOLKS WHO ARE ALSO DUMB AS ROCKS, AND CAN'T FOLLOW A PROPER RECIPE TO SAVE THEIR LIVES

The Worst Tomato Soup in the World

Stir diced tomatoes, tomato paste, or ketchup (or, if you're feeling extravagant, all three) into boiling water. Add whatever miserable spices you have in your cupboard.

No, there's nothing more to this. That is your soup, you groveling pauper.

Slightly Used Meat Soup

When you are lucky enough to find yourself in possession of a chicken wing, or other meat part with bone in it, save the bone.

---IMPORTANT: FREEZE THE BONE TILL YOU NEED IT, OR YOU WILL GET FOOD POISONING AND DIE!---

Later, when all the real food is gone, boil that bone briefly, then simmer it for a couple of hours. Scrape any grease/scum off the surface, add pepper, take out the bone, and eat. (The liquid, that is, not the bone. Don't eat the bone. Also, don't try and save it for a second pot of soup. There's never enough.)

Snot-Looking Fruit Crumble

Get all the bread and cracker crumbs out of your bread basket. Spread them out to form a thin layer of "crust". Now, get out all your jam jars which have a tiny schmear of jam left in them. Scrape the jam out onto the breadcrumbs. Mix. Eat.

Tea/Fruit Juice/Mildly Flavoured Liquid

Instead of breadcrumbs, get boiling water. Put honey/jam remainders in it. Boil. Stir. Drink.

Greasy Hot Cocoa

If you have a tiny schmear of Nutella, you can put that in boiling water and, with a LOT of stirring, get an oily, vaguely cocoa-tasting liquid with only a few lumps. It is palatable. (Sort of.)

(No, no, I don't eat these things.

...

...

...often.)