I cooked an exquisite Beef Bourguignon this evening on a level that you couldn’t even begin to imagine. I started cooking at 12:30pm, staring with a homemade beef stock — made from grass fed bones and fucking marrow. Last night, as a point in fact, I marinated the beef chunks in red wine, a little garlic, onion powder, salt for tenderizing. Then I went ham fucking wild today, cooking like a master in the kitchen. Pots and pans flying all over the place. I had the flour and pepper mills doing backflips and the wine, onions, carrots, mushrooms, potatoes and bacon doing fucking somersaults. Trust me when I tell you — I am a fucking master chef, in the kitchen, angrily punching the food into the pans until it tastes good.
To top it off, I siphoned some of the fat from the stew and used it to make Yorkshire puddings. I whipped that shit up real quick, like POW, BOOM, ZAP, and next thing you know people were treating me like a fucking God in the house. I would’ve served it with red wine, but the kids don’t drink wine and my wife seems to think I’ve taken a liking to it much too fondly, looking at me sideways whenever I take a sip. So now, I’ll need to dry out for a few weeks just to prove to her I am not chemically dependent upon booze. Women.
Futures are higher. I can’t wait to bite into the heads of bears tomorrow, taring their faces off indeud.
PS: More car troubles with the Benz.If you enjoy the content at iBankCoin, please follow us on Twitter