Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Open Letter to The Donut


 
Dear Donut,

Fuck You, and all of your deliciousness.

I am wise to your plan. There you are, sitting there looking so pretty, not even a week after Thanksgiving. Tempting me after those dark days. Sure Thanksgiving started out simple enough. We had a beautiful table set up. Pygar’s deep fried turkey was delicious, and Michael Jackson’s ghost made some fantastic collard greens. I of course, made my delicious white chocolate bread pudding. Trouble brewed when Angie and Brad showed up with not only their orphanage on wheels but also that kooze Gwen Stefani, who of course was wearing her beard and their kid, but also a gaggle of her Hare-Krishna Girls [or whatever they fuck they are] in tow.

It all went down when Zahara, upon immediately recognizing that there wasn’t enough bread pudding to go around, snatched the dish and scuttled underneath the table. She shoveled handfuls of bread pudding into her mouth while holding everyone at bay with the electric carving knife. Thankfully, the battery died before she could get a quarter of the way through it. While Brad wrestled her for the knife, I grabbed the dish and ran into the bathroom.  The mood of the night had changed, and there was no turning back. So I ate it… I ate it all… and it was gooooood.

I know what I did was bad, Donut, and I’m paying for it with the 5 extra pounds I put on. But don’t think that you can temp me down that dark path again. I can see that you aren’t just a plain old glaze. I know that you are a yummi Red Velvet Donut. I respect that. But I will not let you beat me... here... now... right after Thanksgiving... on the eve of December 1st... as we careen towards Christmas with pit-stops at dozens of holiday parties filled with delicious cookies and booze.

See, Donut, you just want me to be fat. You want me to feel a shame spiral of Tracy Gold proportions. But I won't let you win. I’ve got more discipline than a German Kinkster. So I am not going to eat you, and I’ll be going to the gym now. And as you sit there and grow more stale by the minute, I’ll be running off that bread pudding. And I’ll say no to those cookies that have yet to come, because I’m better than you.

So, fuck you, Donut.

Hugz,
Frau

PS. Well, one bite won’t hurt… but that’s just me showing you the power that I have over you... right?



Thursday, November 24, 2011

Gobble Gobble


Getting ready for Thanksgiving Dinner! 

 
Pygar is deep frying the turkey as we speak and Angie and Brad are bringing mirlitons from their garden. I made bread pudding, hopefully there is enough... lord knows I ain't used to feeding 20 kids. And I certainly don't want any of Zahara's shade if she doesn't get any. That bitch can hold a grudge like a mafioso...

  
 

Friday, November 18, 2011

How Clean is Your House... ?


Who said that our current House of Representatives doesn't know what they're doing? Well you, sir or madam, should be embarrassed at how wrong you are. That's right, our right-wing nut job Republican controlled House has proven that they are, in fact, forward thinkers!

"Whatever could you be referring to, Frau?" I can hear you asking. Sure I've bugged your place, but whatever, I got the Patriot Act on my side, fuckin' Commie!

Am I talking about how they have resolved the Heathcare Problem? Nope.

Am I referring to how they have fixed the housing market saving thousands of American's from losing their homes? Pish-posh.

Maybe I talking about how they have restructured the tax burden and not only saving the disappearing middle class but providing much needed assistance to the poor? Even Better!

Our House of Representatives has decided to classify Pizza as a vegetable! HUZZAH! Insert blasts of confetti cannons here! I mean really, who doesn't love pizza? Everyone loves pizza! This fat kid loves pizza!


Now some of you hippie liberal nay-sayers may counter with the argument that the house only pushed this through because they're in the back pockets of the American Frozen Food Institute, a group who counts Schwan Food Company amongst its members, and they know pizza! They've been serving it up to schools across America since the 70's. So clearly there is no personal interest there. But I digress...

Here is why its brilliant. Now that pizza is a vegetable, I am now selling the official "Frau Bella's Pizza Seeds" [patent pending]! Guaranteed to grow fresh delicious pizza plants in your own backyard!


So this is your chance, dear reader, to get in on the ground floor. All you have to do is send me 100 bucks for the opportunity to sell these fantastic seeds! Plus the cost of the seeds of course. Here is the best part, once you sign up, all you have to do it recruit 10 more people to sell the seeds, and you can sit back and watch the money roll in! Hello, job creation!

Like I said, now is the time to get in. I am already working on new strains of the Pizza Plant. Right now we only have the "Little Caesar" Plant, but within the next week, we should have the "Papa John" and we are hoping to have the "Pizza Hut" in two months time. 

Holla'!

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Fame Monsters


The Librarian was a little confused with my request. She was a cute little ginger wearing a hand knit sweater. I knew that she could read me as being a person of intellect [she was a thinker, as indicated by the lack of a kitten on her sweater]. That's why I think my request threw her for a loop.

"Did you say wanted to check out 'Dollhouse?'" she asked.

"Yes, by the authors Kim, Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian. Its work of fiction. It tells the story of Kamille, Kassidy, and Kyle. Sisters who bond with their fame. I mean, they bond with each other, not the camera lens of the paparazzi. That would be silly!" I said matter-of-factly.

She clicked away on her computer for a second, then said, "We have two copies. They're on the new releases shelf."

"Thank goodness," I sigh with relief as I trotted over to the new release self and snatched off both copies. "I've driven to every library in the greater Los Angeles area! I'd like to check both of these out," I said as I set the books on the counter and slid them over.

"That's a little unorthodox, Miss--" she glanced at my library card, "Miss Ciccone."

"I know, but I wanted to get a copy for my much older sister, Lourdes. That way we could both read it at the same time. It's like a book club for sisters!" I chuckle vapidly.

"Oh, uhm, okay." She seemed unconvinced but went ahead and scanned the books and slid them over to me. "Enjoy."

"Oh, I--er... we will!" I said with a smile as I turned and exited.

I walked over to my car and popped the trunk. After casually tossing the two books on the growing pile, I then drove over to a secluded part of the LA riverbed that I had been using as my base camp for the past three days. It was difficult work, but it was worth it, I thought to myself as I unloaded the trunk onto the massive pile that was comprised of nearly every copy of "Dollhouse" in Southern California. I wiped the sweat from my brow and quietly reflected on the scale of my deed. Here I was, through a simple act, saving humanity.

"I know the world may never know of what I have done here, but at least I'll know. Every time somebody is looking for a book to read, I'll know that I have given them the magnificent gift of not having a Kardashian 'novel' as an option," I said aloud as I threw the match onto the gasoline soaked books. "Burn, Kuntdashian, Burn!" I chanted as I danced around the flames.

 
I began to laugh when I thought about poor old sad old Madge getting an massive overdue book fee. Then I paused for a quiet moment of reverie. If only I had thought of this years earlier, I could have stopped that Stephanie Meyers drivel from infecting our teens and Cougar Moms. Seriously? Sparkling vampires? That's just fucking stupid...