i can't cook. you all caught me. as much of a passion for food as i do have, the only thing i can really make specials for yas is a hard, microwaved boca burger on some toasted mulenburg. i did try cooking once. and this is my story.
as i wake up every morning i feel like kate moss on dexatrim. oh so very hungry i am as my feeble bones make it into the kitchen for a bowl of total and a vitamin. this particular morning i threw my bowl and spoon and bottle off the table. no, today was different.
i got a styro cup, my aunt jemimna instant pancake mix, and a greased up pan. oh and i thought this would be a peice of pancake. i was so wrong. the first batter splashed as i put it into the pan. it let it fry anyway, figuring it would cook its way into thickness. when i tried to flip it, on third came up, the rest flooded out of the pan.
my next try was worse. this time i tried to make the batter thicker. and thick it was. it really did look like a pancake in the pan. in my vial excitment, i rammed the spatula under the pancake and tried to flip. and whoa, it turned into grits! was this magic? no, just some suck ass cooking. i started to feel a twinge of anger.
so this next one. thick. pancake looking. but not turnable. i go to flip it, right, and everything not on the spatula just falls off. just falls off, yo, like this ingrateful mutha buckin pancake don't want no place in my stomach. and so i did what i do to all chump fools. i took it outside, all in the frying pan and all, and just tossed it. yeah, i was screamin, all right. dogs had their tails between their legs, rats scattered for cover, and children memorized the words for later use. i was not about to let no damn pancake mix get the best of me.
thick. pancake looking. turnable. that's what my last pancake was. i was so proud of myself, i ain't drown in it syrup like i usually do. i kept it real with no syrup. and let me tell you, i don't care how soft the center was, it was one helluva good pancake.
