Peace out, 2011!

Happy Holidays!  (shhhhhh!  Don't tell Fox News that I'm continuing my assault on Christmas!)

It's been an interesting year, kids.  I celebrated my one year wedding anniversary with my gorgeous wife--who can totally do better, by the way--and last week we finally sent out our thank you cards from our wedding 19 months ago.  Look for yours in the mail today!

Sadly, my Mom died, which sucked immensely.  She continues to be missed.

Speaking of suck, I went to the Bears came last week and took my Brother-in-Law, Jamie.  Born and raised in the heart of Georgia, he is a true good ol' boy.  To properly prep him for his first heinous winter, I took him to his first Bears game last week, against the Seattle Seahawks.  Too bad the Bears forgot to show up.  I think the final score was 188-7 although I might be wrong about that...we couldn't have possibly scored a touchdown, right? 

We had the worlds worst seats--the only seats in the stadium, it seemed, where the sun didn't shine--up beneath the spaceship, 3 rows from the top, where ice from the exterior of the building kept falling on us.  It was damn cold.  However, we had been drinking since 10am and were quite insulated from the elements.  Our brave southerner?  Don't worry about that...the cold didn't seem to bother him:

"Fuck YOU, Seattle!!!"  --Jamie

Anyhow, I wanted to say goodbye to not only 2011, but to my fearless readership of 9.  I'm not permanently going away, of course.  But I'm taking tomorrow off, then it's Christmas, then I have a week off and won't return to work until January 2nd.  Why is this important?  Well, I pretty much only blog at work these days.

You see, the neighbor from whom we were stealing wireless internet had the audacity to move away at the end of October so we now find ourselves without the interwebs.   Combine that with the fact that Krishni's family is coming in town for the next 9 days and I fear I will not find the time to slip away and pound out a decent entry on my iPhone.  Perhaps, if we're all lucky, I'll get liquored up on Christmas day and blog something like "Blargh shompum WINE!  Bby Jesuss?  Snata!  WINE!".

However, if I do not get that opportunity, I just wanted to thank you for reading my other drunken comments this year.  It's been fun and when I finish my "Evil Jesus" screenplay, you all will be the first to know.  After Krishni, of course.  And my Dad.  And probably whomever Krishni tells.  So, you'll be, like, the 16th through 24th people to know.

May Santa leave you coal in your stocking.  Because, you know, we'll need that to keep warm once the economy collapses.  It never hurts to plan ahead.

Merry Christmas, all!  With or without the "Christ".

Can a dessert give you an erection?

As it turns out...yes.

Allow me to back up a bit.  A few years ago, in looking for the perfect gift for a father who tends to fix his clothes with a glue-like product called "Shoo-Goo", I stumbled upon the Turducken.  The Turducken had gained a bit of fame over the years because John Madden--football announcer and spit collector--gave away turkey legs to players for a job well done during the annual Thanksgiving day football game (Bears/Packers/Vikings/Cowboys/Bucs/Saints/Raiders/Patriots/Steelers/Redskins/Chargers/Seahawks 45 - Lions 3).  The CBS production staff annually put together an avian-monstrosity called the "Turducken" that was a Frankenstein-type bird:  a turkey combined with a chicken combined with a duck.

A bird is not supposed to have this many legs

Turns out, the tradition goes back much, much further than John Madden:  “In his 1807 Almanach des Gourmands, gastronomist Grimod de La Reyniere presents his rôti sans pareil (‘roast without equal’)—a bustard stuffed with a turkey, a goose, a pheasant, a chicken, a duck, a guinea fowl, a teal, a woodcock, a partridge, a plover, a lapwing, a quail, a thrush, a lark, an ortolan bunting and a garden warbler—although he states that, since similar roasts were produced by ancient Romans, the rôti sans pareil was not entirely novel.  The final bird is very small but large enough to hold just an olive.”

Thanks Wikipedia!

Today, a few companies produce the Turducken around Thanksgiving, although it's not nearly as fancy-schmancy as the one Grimod conjured.  These days, the thing is pretty much just a de-boned chicken stuffed into a de-boned duck stuffed into a de-boned turkey, stuffed with a sausage and cornbread stuffing.  I say it like that in itself is not awesome. 

Needless to say, this gift was the highlight of my Dad's Christmas.  Other than spending time with his family, of course (just kidding!  The bird was totally the highlight).

Anyhoo, when writing my boring post about Thanksgiving 2011, I was going to include a picture and a history of the Turducken we devoured--the Turducken having now become a family tradition--but I was just too lazy to do so.  Can you blame me?  I still had a crap-load of Turducken in me.  But in researching the Turducken, I came across a dessert so awesome, so ungodly...I...I just don't have the words.  

Seriously, check this out.  I present to you, my brave readership of nine, with the "Turducken of Desserts"...the "Cherpumple":

 

So...horny... 

Dear god.  That thing is amazing.  It's a cherry pie baked into a frosted, white cake, placed on top of an apple pie baked into a yellow cake, atop a pumpkin pie baked into a spice cake.  Click on the picture for a larger, more fantastical image.  

Creator Charles Phoenix says, "It both intrigues and horrifies people." 

Lisa, my work neighbor and resident badass chef (I want her to write a cookbook called "EAT THIS!" that features a picture of her on the cover scowling in a chefs hat, holding a mixing bowl and giving the reader the finger), thinks she can make one of these.  She is, however, thinking that it should only be two layers.  Heresy!

I dunno.  I want one.  Although, to be fair, I'm pretty sure we all now have diabetes merely from looking at the picture.