I couldn’t help myself. I started with dessert! Here is a recipe for Louve’s RECipe Collab and GabyVaughan’s Challenge Collab. Enjoy!
A Recipe for Disaster
First pre-heat your oven to 650 degrees or so, higher if possible. This may result in the incineration of residual food particles in your oven so you may want to remove the batteries from any smoke detectors you might have in your house.
In a large bowl sift together:
3 cups misinformation
1½ cups ill conceived ideas
¾ cups of forgone conclusions
1 heaping tablespoon of self-righteous indignation
And a dash of salt to taste
Your common sense from
Your feelings of self worth
Set both of these aside.
In a small bowl combine:
All of your feelings of resentment and
Every missed opportunity (Disregard whether or not any of these were the result of your own actions, the work of some spiteful person you may or may not know or by sheer coincidence. This is of no importance.)
Work into a lather.
When you begin to feel flushed and overheated hastily dump the frothing liquid into the dry ingredients.
When all of the ingredients have adhered to each other and have formed a great lumpy mass, dust any nearby surface with a feeling of utter hopelessness.
Angrily slam the lumpy mass down and begin to knead desperately.
Fold the dough over every now and then and continue to knead at right angles to get the bubbles out, if you feel like it, that is, not that it is going to make any difference.
When you feel your blood begin to boil, get out a rolling pin and roll the sticky mass out into a thickness of about ¼ inch. Most likely this won’t work very well, no matter how much you continue to sprinkle the surface with desperation and despair. At this point you may just want pound the dough repeatedly with the rolling pin and you should feel utterly justified in doing so, though it isn’t likely to help matters any.
When you feel like you’ve just about had enough, try to find a pie pan or a casserole dish or any bloody kind of container you have around, it doesn’t fucking matter, and spread the dough over the bottom of the pan to form a crust.
Now you just have to make the goddamned filling.
It’s going to come out like shit anyway so just pull out anything you can find shoved to the back of your refrigerator. If your refrigerator is completely empty because that’s just the way things are these days, you might want to raid your cupboards for those odd cans of peculiar fruits or vegetables you meant to pawn off on the loser who came by asking for shit at the last canned food drive before you got annoyed and slammed the door in his face. If your cupboards are bare because you’re Old-Fucking-Motherfucking-Hubbard just dig out any unidentifiable old cleaning products you can find under your goddamned sink and dump it all into a pot on the top of the stove and turn the bastard on high!
You might want to leave the room for a while now to “cool off”. And by “cool off” I mean, continue to mutter and feel sorry for yourself until you’ve repeated the same lame complaints and transparent excuses over and over so often that you can barely stand to hear yourself think! Now return to the kitchen with a renewed sense of self-loathing.
You will find that whatever you have left on the stove top has boiled over and possibly caught fire. Curse modern day appliances and reduce heat. Dowse any flame with whatever liquid you have sitting around. If it’s flammable you’re fucked, but you’re fucked anyway, right?
If you haven’t managed to set anything alight yet dump the putrid, stinking blackened filling into your pathetic excuse for a pie crust and shove the whole fucking mess into your ridiculously over heated oven. Most likely you will have forgotten to put oven mitts on before handling the white hot cookware, which is just more evidence that the universe is out to fuck you over! Scream in pain and throw your dirty bowls and cooking utensils into the sink or on the floor like the big fucking baby that you are and storm out of the house! Yeah, that’s it, go walk it off, you moron! If something bad happens while you’re out, it’s not your fault, because NOTHING is your fucking fault!
Come back in about 30 minutes or an hour or whenever you fucking feel like it and if your house is still standing pull the smoking mess out the oven and let rest for 20 minutes.
Cut into sections and serve to yourself because you’re a worthless piece of shit who has no friends.
Bon appetit, you fucking asshole!