Since the Spiteful Chef is in Jamaica, I will be the featured guest-blogger for the next few days. I must admit, my culinary wisdom pales in comparison to hers. She pays to improve her prowess, and I still regularly apply the sniff test to most foods I find in my apartment. (The great thing about MREs is that they always pass the sniff test because they have been engineered to have neither smell nor taste.) The funny thing is, I am the go-to guy in my apartment when it comes to questions about food. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that my room mates are single-handedly (3 handedly?) putting the Totino’s family through med-school. In other words, I kinda suck at cooking. Fortunately, I perform well when tasked with the best part of cooking…
Eating. The Spiteful Chef has been kind enough to provide me with 4 meals and 3 cakes to enjoy during my stay. I will provide you all with stunning analysis using descriptive words that the layperson can understand. (Tastes like foot, doesn’t taste like foot, etc.) I will also provide updates on the animals, partly to provide you with reassurance, and partly to remind me that if I don’t act like a grown-ass man, they will defecate in my luggage. Most importantly, I will carry on the proud family tradition of bitching about everything in life that falls below my arbitrary golden standard.
I have yet to eat any of the pre-made meals.
The animals are attacking my fiance. They seem to be prevailing.
There, with those two out of the way I can focus on bitching about Texas. If TX were a food, (which it probably is down here) it would certainly fall in the “tastes like foot” category. Immediately upon exiting the plane, I was overwhelmed by the overheated funkiness of this state. A lovely geriatric in a cowboy hat gave me a hardy (I think that word is ok in this state) “Howdy Yall!” I think their customer service department should try a more empathetic phrase. Maybe, “Welcome to Texas. Sorry.” Whatever, she was just doing her job. I will let that one slide. After leaving the airport, I found the vehicle and turned on the GPS. Let me introduce you to the Texas Highway System. When you were a kid, did you ever turn the two wheels on your Etch-a-Sketch as quickly and randomly as you could? If you did, you could have a successful career in the Texas Department of Transportation. My GPS revealed a cluster of black lines intersecting randomly and repeatedly. I almost reached out and shook the GPS, hoping I could start over. I must stop here, because I really want to give special attention to a Dairy Queen commercial that tugs at my heart-strings.
Every Dairy Queen commercial in Texas ends with a man drawling (new verb) the following phrase: “That’s what I like about TEEEEEEEXASSS.” You know what? I like ice cream. I like cookies and burgers. I also like not being a fat piece of shit. Maybe the obesity rate in Texas wouldn’t be 28.1% (CDC 2007) if there was something else to like in Texas besides Dairy Queen. I would get off my high horse and stop judging these people, but I am not a decent person.
I will get back to writing about food as soon as I get to try some. I look forward to updating you throughout the week, because That’s All I Like About Texas.