Requests From Above

Anyone who knows me knows that I am utterly perfect. Truly the most wonderful person ever. In fact, I'd say those who know me are lucky. Very lucky.

One of those lucky people is my mother. She gave me life so I guess I should try to be nice to her. I would like to point out that I become utterly perfect with no help from her (or my father) what-so-ever. I was born perfect and remain that way to this day.

I like to humor her by making things she likes. Makes her feel like I might actually have some affection for her. I probably do at some level, I just don't feel or express it. I say something nice from time-to-time purely out of pity.

So, without further explanation (as I've gone on too long blathering about this person who is supposed to have some kind of meaning in my life), here's the list of recipes that my mom has requested that I make for her (with her comments, she does her best to help):

Apricot Bars - You could substitute a Philippine fruit for the apricots.

The Best Damned Oatmeal Raison Cookie Recipe EVER - Add nuts to make the cookies more nutritious. (ed: what's mom doing looking for recipes on the Beastie Boys site?)

Chinese Restaurant Fried Rice Recipe - (ed: I'm not sure mom understands that we're in the rural Philippines ... Basmati rice isn't exactly common around here. Recipe sounds great, I'll experiment and do the best I can)

It's A Cream Puff Renaissance - This is a great article on cream puffs. Save it. And make some cream puffs! (ed: after I make these, she'll comment about how we should be eating healthier ... she's right, but who has that kind of will power when faced with such food?)

Banana Bread - Bake this banana bread recipe. (ed: no please, no thank you, just "do it" ... and, to think, I learned my manners from her!)

Note for the humor impaired: the first few paragraphs of this post were written with my tongue thoroughly planted-(and stapled)-in-cheek. I love my mom and happily cook for her, my lovely wife, and the wonderful boy who I'm lucky to have as a son.

If you don't understand that they were meant to be a joke (sarcastic, not true, etc.) ... please, go to the video store, rent as many things with Eddie Izzard that you can find (if you can find only one, make sure it is Dress To Kill, at one point he gives a fine explanation of how the Britiash, the puny island nation that it was, managed to hold half the world), watch them all, repeat until your sense of humor grows to a reasonable size.

Should your humor fail to grow ... start over with nitrous oxide (laughing gas) ... if you fail to laugh now, you're dead. Find the local morgue and turn yourself in. You're late for your celestial appointment. Not a good way to start the afterlife.