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| He has no idea I just slipped Cialis into his Chardonnay! |
Dear Hester: I live in an extremely white neighborhood despite being a person of color. Due to my hectic work schedule, I have 14 (slave-wage paying) yobs I can never seem to get to the grocery store until the night before Thanksgiving and they are always sold out of all zee yams. Any advice? – Concerned Consuela
Dear Consuela: First of all, if you moved to a ghetto yams being scarce wouldn’t be an issue at all. However, my suggestion is that you can easily make a substitution for yams by boiling regular potatoes in orange soda. I’m sure that beverage doesn’t sell out in your neighborhood. Then you can either add some honey, or in your case more likely Agave nectar to give the illusion of yams. Top them off with marshmallows and no one will be the wiser.
Dear Hester: I know table talk is not necessarily your area of expertise, but I’m going to ask you how to handle it anyway. Every year my Thanksgiving turns into a near shouting match with people trying to talk about politics who in reality, have their heads so far up their own asses they could check their fillings for mercury. They don’t read the newspaper and KNOW nothing. How do I cope with these dolts? –Distressed in Durham
Dear Distressed: I am assuming you are all grown up and even a liberal as you pay attention to reality. So that means you can’t excuse yourself to “get a pack of cigarettes at the 7-11” while you are really firing up a doobie on the front porch because you probably don't have any dope connections and are stuck with prescription drugs. Too bad. These people cannot be reasoned with. I would suggest you remain silent, but bring wines from vineyards with fun names like Stark Raving, Twisted, and Fat Bastard. At least that way you can have a laugh inside your head when the idiots don’t notice the wine labels as they are too busy spouting gibberish. If your family is Jewish and starts talking about Palestine, ignore all my previous advice, just feign illness and make a break for it.
Dear Hester: I would really like to brine my turkey this year but I don’t have a pan big enough and there’s no room in my refrigerator anyway because of all of the Pabst Blue Ribbon. I would like to use the claw foot bathtub to brine the bird in my Williamsburg apartment, but I don’t think it’s been cleaned since 1927. – Baffled in Brooklyn
Dear Baffled: Brine is for Sea Monkeys. You know, the most disappointing childhood pet other than Hamsters – those little shit machines? I'm assuming your blood pressure is low considering your locale, so I would suggest mixing an entire container of salt with an entire tub of butter, melted together with half a can of PBR. Heat it, stirring constantly until it's the consistency of paste. Then rub it all over the bird before you roast it. If you end up calling paramedics after dinner, make sure you tell them you got this advice from Paula Deen. Thanking you ahead of time and Happy Holidays!
1 comments so far :
Hey Hester, is that "Life of Pi" movie about the shelf-life of pumpkin pie and are they just trying to be hip by leaving off the "e"? If so, is this a good way to escape familial dysfunction?
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