TELL YOUR MOM I WOULD HAVE BEEN HAPPY TO PAY HER, HAD THE RIMJOB BEEN OF HIGHER QUALITY

Saturday, December 25, 2004

The Birth Of Little Baby Jesus/My New Waffle Iron

Santa Claus can kiss my ass. I got a new waffle iron for Christmas, which I opened two days ago (I'm currently celebrating by myself, so opening presents on the actual day didn't seem necessary). I bought some waffle batter yesterday afternoon, wanting to make myself a nice big waffle/strawberry/whipped cream/syrup orgy of culinary delights for Christmas morning, in lieu of celebrating with family or friends. Anyway, I opened the batter and poured it into the measuring cup when I plugged in my new chrome waffle iron, and the fucking thing didn't even work. I tried it in multiple outlets... No dice. The quality control in the fucking waffle iron factory is slipshod at best. Don't those dirty sons of bitches bother to check the fucking things? It was shrinkwrapped, it should work like a fucking dream. Not wanting to dump the uncooked batter in the sink, I drank half a cup. It wasn't as bad as it sounds (I was hoping it would taste like raw cookie dough, but I was wrong to have wished so high) but it was still disgusting. I vomited about half an hour ago, and now I still feel sick. I had a beer to calm down the ominous rumblings in my gut, but it hasn't helped. I think I'm going to lay on the couch and stare up at the ceiling now.

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