What I eat, apparently

I believe that bisquick is best taken through the nose. It’s not quite pure enough for mainlining it, and smoking bisquick would be absolutely ludicrous. This is why my preferred method of ingesting a good dose of bisquick is to snort it. Snorting bisquick is an art, really, meant more of a bisquick aficionado and not for some amateur biscuit fan. Which is why I chose to present today’s tasty niblet in a more accessible form. for the ‘Average Jane/Joe’ of bisquick consumers.

Thus, bisquick in biscuit form. Laziest bread product ever. I don’t even bother to measure, cause it’s just easier to dump a pile of powder into a bowl and mix milk in until doughy. Then, squish into balls and bake until delicious. Works for me!

Now, I know that the above will simply be insufficient for the hardcore user out there, so I have included bonus imagery for those who need that extra fix. I fully understand that, as an enabler, I do bear some responsibility here. Nonetheless, here is a cat that is huffing pasta.

Now, don’t blame me if your children grow up and start shooting things. Go blame God, or whoever put eyeballs on the sorry bastards in the first place. Besides, in some countries, this stuff is not only legal, but encouraged!

It’s a rare thing that can tempt a lady’s heart more then a big pile of meat.

There I was, casually roaming the aisles of the local Kroger, when a friendly little tube of sausage just hopped right on into my cart. Being a kind person, I allowed it to come along for the ride. I get home, and it promptly crawls into my freezer, curls right on up, and goes to sleep.

A few weeks later, I’m in the kitchen, just minding my own business, when I hear a pounding on the freezer door. I open it up, and out jumps the sausage tube! I had my suspicions that it wanted nothing more then to crawl down my throat! So I went on instinct, and left it out to thaw.

Later, when I whipped out a frying pan and cutting board, there it was, anxious to be sliced. I did the deed. Promptly afterwards, the patties hopped into the frying pan and began sizzling away. Don’t they just look so content?

Anyhow, they got all naughty and covered with grease. So I got out my handy dandy paper towels and patted them dry. This is a technique I honed back when I ate public school lunches. The napkins in public school cafeterias exist less to wipe your hands and mouth and more for absorbing pizza grease. So anyway, then I slapped a sausage into a nice toasty biscuit and doused it with syrup. I then topped off my sausage biscuit with a side of sausage.

Let me tell you, this concoction slid down my throat like nothing else. That meat sure knew a sucker when it saw me!

So there I was, deep in the Amazon. And by ‘Amazon’, I mean ‘My apartment’. Anyhow, a vision of light appeared in my head…a vision of biscuits. A vision so luminescent that white flour alone would not cut it. No, I needed wheat flour as well for this job. A blending of two flours, to form the ultimate biscuit-seeking power, that the Biscuit Gods might bestow unto me their fluffy buttery benevolence. That my soul should be at peace, cushioned in the soft tender carbohydrates of the heavens.

I sought long, and I sought hard. My seeking was not to be in vain. Soon, the alchemy was complete. Crouched, prone upon a desolate pan in the stove-like wilds, were my muses.

Wild, these biscuits were. No biscuit cutter could tame them. Timidly, they approached me. Seeing I meant no harm, they soon gathered ’round. Overwhelmed I was by these gentle yet delicious beasts, I couldn’t help but delight in their doughy frolicking. Seemingly inspired by the gods themselves, one chose itself out of the fray to come forth, and be a willing sacrifice down my throat. It was then that the jam made itself known, sacrificial jam to quell the soul of any bread product.

The biscuits then silenced themselves, and I took a savory bite into the virgin dough. The rest were awed into submission, overwhelmed by a catharsis of hope, that someday soon they too might meet this good and noble fate. Eagerly, they crawled into my tupperware container, and nuzzled up against one another.

Sleepily, they dozed as I covered the container and savored the spoils of my hunt. The gods were good to me that day.