I think I've reached the pinnacle of my existence, I've come to that point in my life where you realise that you can't go back where you came from and when you look forward you realise that the rest of the way is downhill and so steep that you are gonna have to roll and slide through the mud and grime to get anywhere at all. How did I come to this pass you ask? It's because I've had a fundamental foundation pulled out from under me, I realised last night that the reason men don't venture into the kitchen much isn't because they don't like cooking or detest it, it's cause they CAN'T COOK!
I mean sure, man created fire, gee wow, we rubbed two sticks together and created a flame, what's the bet if a woman hadn't been there the greatest revelation we would have found in fire would have been our singed eyebrows and rapidly receding hairline? It seems an established fact in life that woman can cook - that the kitchen is there domain. I'm lost in the kitchen, I search every cupboard but the right one, looking for the object of my attention, i use baking powder instead of soda, colouring instead of essence... I can't even steal food anymore, Something is always out of place and the food is kept in such strict inventory that come the end of the week and the household 'stocktake' I can see my lifespan visibly decreasing. Is there mercy in the world, how else can I satisfy my munchies at 2:00AM?
What better solution to the problem than learning to cook myself - To support this fiction I even bought myself a recipe book, a nice thick looking one, It's like Christians with big bibles, the bigger the book the better the cook (yeah sure). So I visibly set about my task... justified in my own mind. I mean, It can't be HARD to cook, everyone knows that men are more intelligent than women right? (duh!)
I'm telling you now, chocolate cake is from the devil!! 2 hours I spent meticulously setting out the ingredients, grinding them down into the finest of powder, heating the oven to the perfect fanforced temp... whipping up the creamiest butter icing you could imagine... and the smell as it rose... hmmmm. Then itz done, I take it out, and in my ignorance I immediately run with it over to the tray and tip it updside down and try and shake it out of the pan... Can someone say MISTAKE!! Leaping with dire abandon onto the waiting tray below, the entire CENTRE of the cake fell out, leaving the dges behind. I was FROZEN! shock horror ANGER!!
this was not fair... All that work, effort, sweat... Nooo! and here I am, munching on crumbled cake and creamy icing a living proof that man and kitchen don't mix.
"To be or not to be? That is the question on every garbageman's mind at the end of the day." - Oddfellow, 2002