I was still planning my housewarming (and why is it a housewarming, nobody brings logs). I had the appetizer guests all lined up. The Peanut Man, the Weebler Elves, Prince Charles the Tuna, Pill DoughBoy and the StayFluff man. Now I needed to figure out who to invite who could prepare the main dish. I’m a man, I know nothing about cooking, cleaning or burping babies. But my TV friends would. They could prepare a dish suitable for the French Grommet (a magazine that teaches how to cook meals to die for).
For the main dish, I decided to invite the French Drunk Chef over. Ooops, I forgot, she’s dead. Hey, if I’m going to have a fantasy (psychotic) housewarming party (break) I can invite anyone living or dead that I want too. Anyhow, she’s the only one I know who can fry/bake/baste/griddle/create (while drunk) some scrumptious pancakes. No, that’s a breakfast food. Because the party is in the late afternoon/early evening, I will strongly urge the French Drunk Chef to make crepes. Crepes are more golden than pancakes (because they have waffles in them). I’m sure she will do a good job. To add that special sauce on top (syrup) I think I will have Mrs. What’s ButterWorth go tap some trees (when Mrs. What’s ButterWorth taps, syrup answers). Well, nonetheless, her sauce will taste great on the pancake-waffles.
Okay, okay, I know it’s not a very balanced meal. Peanuts, crackers, tuna, bread, crepes/syrup. But hey, it’s a party and I’ll die if I want to (“It’s my party and I’ll die if I want to, die if I want to, die if I want to.”). If I must include veggies at this party then I’ll have to invite the Golly Green Mayan. He’s an old Indian who has veggies growing all over his green outfit (not to be mistaken for green jeans). At least with him at the party there will be something healthy to eat.
For drinks, I decided to invite a couple of TV friends. First, I’ll invite the Cool Man. His drinks always have cool ingredients, like red dye #2. It’ll be a good to drink straight up, or if people want a mixed drink (is that a drink with parents of different ethnicities?) they can mix it with my next TV friend (at least billboard friend) will bring. I’m going to invite James Deam. He’s famous for drinking himself into oblivion with Scotch before driving over that cliff.
For dessert, I wanted No’mores. So called because after eating a couple you say, “No more. No more. Or I might explode.” This is exactly what happened to my next invitee, the StayFluff Man. He’s one big sweet fluff. That’s why I’m sure he and the PillDoughboy will get along fabulously.
After the party ends, and if people planned to stay the night I’ve invited some entertaining TV friends to make breakfast. I have the Tricks Rabbit (he pours cereal, while appearing/disappearing from a magician’s hat). Also, the Quicker Than a Speeding Bullet Rabbit (he’s a rabbit equivalent Superman) who can keep the Tricks Rabbit company (I just hope they don’t multiply and conquer). His chocolate concoction tastes like cow’s milk without the cow. I will also invite Antony the Tigger (a distant relation to TiggerToo, the cousin of the brother of the uncle who works with that bear who smells like excrement). He can provide a cereal—that’s for rabbits, not for kids. I’m certainly not going to serve pebbles (it was a cereal once upon a time: but in rabbit lingo it means poop) to the rabbits.
I think that just about completes my cooking guest list. Next, I’ll have to create an invitation list of TV friends for cleanup.
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