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What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 2

What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 2 published on 2 Comments on What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 2
As an American I only speak one language… I am aware that others exist, but I choose only to use them as seasoning.
In the case of my Banana Bread, I’ve spiced it up with “de los Muertos,” I’ve always thought the phrase sounded delicious and invigorating, just like my bread.
If you’re like me, you’ve got some nerd friends who are bound to ask why it’s called “Banana Bread de los Muertos”–here’s your answer, you tell them it’s because Muertos sustain you and they’re delicious.  Follow it up with, “Nerd.”
Take the silence that follows as acquiescence.
Here’s what you need for your very own Banana Bread de los Muertos:
1 1/2 cups mashed ripe bananas
1/3 cup plain or vanilla yogurt
1/3 cup creamy peanut butter
3 tablespoons butter, melted
2 large eggs
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 ginger
1/4 ground cloves
1/2 to 3/4 of a cup of chocolate chips
Cooking spray
Step 1:  Preheat your oven to 350 Fahrenheit–for any Canadian readers that’s 177 degrees Gretzky
Step 2:  Combine the first five ingredients in a large bowl; beat with a mixer at medium speed.  Then add the granulated and brown sugars until blended.
It's a little known fact that Glamdring gets +5 to Pommel Strikes against both Bananas and Plantains.


1 Crit later... mashed nanners

Mix the rest of the wet ingredients with your newly defeated bananas.

Step 3:  Combine flour and the other dry ingredients in a separate mixing bowl.  Combine thoroughly.

Step 4:  Add the combined dry ingredients to the wet–beat until just blended.

Step 5:  Fold in your chocolate chips.

Step 6:  Apply cooking spray to a 9×5 baking pan.

Step 7:  Pour your batter in and bake in preheated oven for 1 hour and 5 minutes or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the middle of the bread comes out clean.

Remove from oven and let cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes.  Then remove bread from pan and cut it in half.  Keep one half for yourself and throw the other half onto your lawn where you’re sure to have attracted all the pregnant ladies in your neighborhood.  I should have mentioned that pregnant women need Banana Bread, so it’s best just to accept that you’ll at best get half of what you made. Don’t fight them, just give in.


Now here’s an adorable pictures of Ishmael.  The World’s Greatest Feline Companion.

If your bread is delicious, then you’re welcome. If it stinks, I accept your apology for ruining my recipe.



What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 1

What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 1 published on 3 Comments on What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 1

My cells are tired, and I suspect it’s my own damn fault.

It’s either my fault because my genes are too stellar, or because I’m facing a karmic punishment for narcissistic shit talking.

First the stellar gene theory, my son has decided that rather than sprouting one or two teeth at a time he’d prefer to have them all at once, thank you very much (I’m operating under the illusion that he’s thoughtfully weighed the pros and cons of protracted vs. acute teething  and has “decided”).   Thus, in addition to being preternaturally cute, tall, and intelligent–he’s believes in brutal efficiency.

I’m so proud. Proud and tired.

In his calculations, I don’t know that he adequately weighed the *Impact on Dad’s Hobbies* variable, or the *Parents Must Preform Adequately at Work* variable.

It is possible that my stellar genes haven’t gifted my son with the ability to plan his teething. If that’s true then in my exhausted state the only reason I can think of that the Universe would have all of a baby’s teeth come in at the same time is as a means of punishing a prideful, shit talking father (i.e. Me).

Before Baby Indy was born, I assured everyone around me that I was the King of the Jungle and that the Baby would bend to my iron will. The Baby would have to conform to my schedule, etc, etc, etc.

I’m such an asshole.

Thus the Universe decided to punish me for my narcissism–teach me some humility.

Well, the Universe can suck it, I’m not learning shit.

If anything I’m doubling down on my narcissism, take this blog as proof. It’s operating under the theory that a baby’s discomfort is a father’s punishment.

Ha! How about that Universe, lesson not learned.

Quick caveat, in the event that the Universe actually reads this know that I’m a huge fan of your work and would love it if you followed me on Twitter. Maybe you could even give us a retweet every once in a while?

So tired.