dad and i were emailing back and forth on friday. somehow, the topic of this blog came up. i asked him if he had seen it. he oh-so-subtly took the opportunity to ensure his continued presence on this site.
I may have seen it once when you first sent the link. but if you sent it again I would look again.
Also, I have a solution for Katie’s stuffing.
I would be willing to accept her amazing stovetop stuffing performance if she uses pork and adds diced firm, sweet apple to it at the very end.
well. i know that by "how’s that?" he actually means, "if she brings that stuffing without diced firm, sweet apple i will throw her and it in your backyard, crack open an ice cold root beer, and wait for the birds to come. you got that?"
i’m not exaggerating. dad knows how to throw someone in the backyard. take my word for it. and if you don’t want to take my word for it, may i suggest you head on back to the summer of 1983 and talk to the freshly yard-thrown six-year old who was sitting in the middle of a blanket of dandelions, screaming her head off for fear of bees.
that’s right. i’m a bee-o-phobe. and i might as well tell you now, while the secrets are coming out. i’m also a word-maker-upper.
but back to the question, "how’s that?" – well, it sounds repulsive. honestly. stovetop is made for water and butter. it can’t support gourmet doctoring. especially not in the form of "diced firm, sweet apple." ew.
don’t get me wrong. i’m no stovetop lover. um, lover of stovetop stuffing. but it does have its place (for example, i used to buy boxes of it, four-for-a-dollar at the ghetto-mart, when i was on drugs. it provided days of "just add water" nourishment.) but it’s really best to let it exist, undisturbed, in its original sponge-foam state.
i see a vision. it’s me, with katie, sitting on my front stoop. one spoon each, with a giant bowl of stovetop stuffing between us. turkey flavored.
oh yeah. and the birds will probably show up, too. bodega bay all over again.