The Turducken is in the oven. I have learned some important lessons here.
1. Turducken is a 'many hands make the work light' kind of project. Okay, so trying to make this on my own was retarded. FUCKING retarded. With six people, this would have been one of the most fun things to make, ever. With one person and a conscript, it was near hell.
2. When people online say that it's not that much work and that it's a lot of fun to make, they have six people helping them. Bastards. Cowfuckers all. Asshats to the Nth degree.
3. Next time start much, much earlier. Like, if I want to do this by myself, I should start on Tuesday if I want it done by Friday. make one stuffing a night, debone the birds one at a time...okay, start Saturday if I want it NEXT sunday.
4. Next time order one from Central Market. This negates lesson number three.
5. It does not take twice as long as you think it will. It takes six times as much time as you think it will. Did I say six times? I meant, to the sixth power. Doubling the time you think something will take is not enough. No. Not nearly enough. I file this lesson under a "Foolish moral, when will you meat popsicles learn?" lesson.
6. Ed is way too good for me. I don't deserve him. He's a saint. No, more than a saint. Near godlike in his amazing-ness. Me? I don't deserve him. A lesbian quad of playmates who all have PhD's, are emotionally stable and are as wealthy as they are brilliant and beautiful? Getting close, but not quite.
Ed didn't sleep last night to pick up the Turducken slack. He didn't WANT to work on a turducken. He didn't want to HAVE a turducken. He busted ass from 3:00 in the morning till noon to help me on this. Correction, from 5:00 in the afternoon to noon the following day. He then, after all of this, WENT SHOPPING FOR BIRTHDAY CAKE, CHOCOLATE, DRINKS, etc. He drove over an hour and a half round trip to go to Austin to pick up a certain kind of chocolate that he thought I should have for the party. Did I mention his god-like ness? Did I mention that Ed is really, over the top, too good for me? I thought so. For the record, Ed is the best boyfriend ever, in the history of the known universe.
7 Sleep deprivation makes things funnier. Yelling at a deboned turkey when you're trying to close it up "OBEY YOU FLOPPY BASTARD!" is really funny. Meaning it is not so funny. Uncontrollably laughing because you have to sew up it's ass, and there's a duck sticking out of it, and you SHOVED A DUCK UP THAT FLOPPY BASTARDS ASS is only funny when you really, really, really need a nap.
8. I am not Martha Stewart. Totally. Not me. My house is still messy (but Ed cleaned it some...please see number 6. Me? Not deserving this. Ed? Gift from the gods.) and I have no energy left to make vegatarian dishes. Any vegtiblearians coming to my house? You get a fruit plate, cheese plate, and loads of chocolate. All the stuffings have meat in them. It's a potluck, here's hoping people bring things to feed the vegtiblearians, because I suck (although Ed is a god). You can also not eat off my floor. You can, potentially, skid all the way across it from the spilled duck broth. I doubt I will have the energy to mop. Usually I demand that my bathroom is clean enough that you can eat off any surface you choose. So not happening today.
9. There is no way to gracefully pull sausage stuffing out of your hair. No worries, I threw that part out, but really, who would have thought it was that sticky?
10. Offering to open the party at 4:00 was a dumb, dumb, dumb idea. Here's hoping no one shows until 7:00, same as the last time.
11. Did I mention that Ed is god-like?
12. I need a nap.
I'm off to clean my house and nap. Wish me luck.
What the HELL is a Turducken?
You put the duck WHERE? Oh my god. What does Google say about it?
I...I must have it. I must make a Turducken. IT SHALL BE MINE.
What do you mean Wall Mart doesn't carry fresh unfrozen duck? It's Turducken season! Isn't EVERYONE making one?
Wow...this is going to be a lot of work. Edit: No wait, this stage happens later.
There are many, many crude jokes you can make while deboning a turkey. Having fun, feeling good.
Tired of being arms-deep in dead fowl. Knife no longer sharp. Considering vegitarianism.
Hateful to all poultry. Especially floppy poultry.
Put all poultry in bowls to refridgerate. Happy again. Nothing looks quite as silly as a turkey in a bowl. Boneless fowl can be FUNNY.
Holy crap...I'm less than halfway done after six hours. I still have to make the stuffing.
Just give me a fucking shot of vodka already. Just one.
Roasting the bones for stock? I've never done that before. Hope it turns out well. (edit: I will never make stock with unroasted bones again. The stock was godlike. I near wept when I had to throw it away because there was no room in the fridge.)
Make a livejournal post. It's the only way you'll feel better.
Goddamit I de-boned that turkey, I am HAVING a Turducken!
I know it says cooking wine, but I'm sure there's SOME alcohol in there...some?
THE BIRD HAS TO GO IN AT 10:30 AND I'M NOT EVEN HALFWAY DONE. I WON'T BE DONE ON TIME IF I COOK ALL NIGHT.
Why? Why did I decide to make a turducken from scratch instead of buying one from the specialty deli in town?
Hmm. I guess I COULD kill myself...
CLOSE DAMN YOU! OBEY YOU FLOPPY BASTARD!
It's in the OOOven...it's in the OOOOven.
Will it turn out okay? Will it be tasty?
It's tasty all right, but for this much work it should have given my tastebuds a spontaneous orgasm.
Kitchen? What kitchen? I don't have a kitchen, and if I did it wouldn't need to be cleaned. Look again honey, I'm SURE we have at least one pot that's not filthy. I mean, if we HAD pots.
The Tuducken crazyness is over. Yay! Tip for the day- Make a Turducken in a large group of buy one from the store.
