It’s that time of year again.
It's Christmas, although that is the cause of my troubles. Let me just start by telling you about this party I went to last year over at my friends Carl's house. Well it's not a house, its really a warehouse full of art and weird bits of junk. Carl planned one of those "cookie exchange" parties. Please keep in mind that we're a group are 30-Year-old gay men and not 65-year-old Methodist women.
If you've ever had the pleasure to be invited to one of these death marches with red and green sweaters you know that you spend 3 hours making 3 dozen cookies just to let your friends mock your baking abilities. When the exchange begins you are required to line up and pick up one of each of the most God awful waste of sugar and food coloring you've ever seen. You have to pick one of each or the person behind you will be offended because he spent 3 hours making candy cane shaped abortions.
I quickly got kicked out of line after starting to eat the only cookie I liked, which just happened to be the one I brought, sad as they were. Please keep in mind I had a downloaded recipe that had the first step "Locate your kitchen." The act of eating my own treats upset some of the sweater-wearing homosexuals. It did not end well, my fist step into Christmas season and I had a small group of partygoers correcting my "cookie sharing ability." Damn. It is true; I do not play well with others
It's Christmas, although that is the cause of my troubles. Let me just start by telling you about this party I went to last year over at my friends Carl's house. Well it's not a house, its really a warehouse full of art and weird bits of junk. Carl planned one of those "cookie exchange" parties. Please keep in mind that we're a group are 30-Year-old gay men and not 65-year-old Methodist women.
If you've ever had the pleasure to be invited to one of these death marches with red and green sweaters you know that you spend 3 hours making 3 dozen cookies just to let your friends mock your baking abilities. When the exchange begins you are required to line up and pick up one of each of the most God awful waste of sugar and food coloring you've ever seen. You have to pick one of each or the person behind you will be offended because he spent 3 hours making candy cane shaped abortions.
I quickly got kicked out of line after starting to eat the only cookie I liked, which just happened to be the one I brought, sad as they were. Please keep in mind I had a downloaded recipe that had the first step "Locate your kitchen." The act of eating my own treats upset some of the sweater-wearing homosexuals. It did not end well, my fist step into Christmas season and I had a small group of partygoers correcting my "cookie sharing ability." Damn. It is true; I do not play well with others
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