Sounds like you’ve encountered my mum’s fruitcake recipe too. The army tried to get hold of the recipe to make its tank-buster munitions because tungsten is so expensive, but it was banned under the CWC.
I have yet to encounter any living human that claims to like fruitcake. So why do so many people persist in baking them, year after year? I know, I know, tradition and all that, but I have never tried to serve anyone my Christmas tree!
Why do so many humans believe in a special imaginary friends in the sky? Why are so many humans prepared to murder at the supposed behest of said special imaginary friend? Why do so many humans fear and hate other humans who look a bit different to them? Why do so many humans despise other humans whose sexuality is not the same as theirs (but none of their damned business anyway?) Why do so many humans insist on baking fruitcake at Christmas? These are the imponderables that science and philosophy have struggled with for centuries, and nobody has managed to answer them yet.
If you heat the fruitcake to 70C and soak it in 500 ml of rum and 250ml of brandy, then slice it with the 1.5 hp demolition hammer before it sets up again, it is good eating. Fruitcake without booze is almost as bad as hockey or cricket without beer.
I dunno…she looks like a real diva…
Really? Om nom nom.
DON’T EAT ME!
My relationships with women have always been complicated by trying to find the balance in the approach/avoidance conflict.
The cake is a lie!
Nuh-uh! You are!
C’mon you two…can’t we have some piece?
Any way you slice it, we come up short.
So it’s not a lie, it’s a shortcake?
Allies, the shortcake has. The fruitcake, however, has none.
I have fresh strawberries and 3 whipped cream squirters. I also have rum, brandy, and a 1 hp demolition hammer to soften up the fruitcake
Ooooh, you kinky devil, you!
I have a demolition blade for my sawzall with carbide teeth good for pipe and nails, but fruitcake will shell out the blade.
Sounds like you’ve encountered my mum’s fruitcake recipe too. The army tried to get hold of the recipe to make its tank-buster munitions because tungsten is so expensive, but it was banned under the CWC.
I have yet to encounter any living human that claims to like fruitcake. So why do so many people persist in baking them, year after year? I know, I know, tradition and all that, but I have never tried to serve anyone my Christmas tree!
Why do so many humans believe in a special imaginary friends in the sky? Why are so many humans prepared to murder at the supposed behest of said special imaginary friend? Why do so many humans fear and hate other humans who look a bit different to them? Why do so many humans despise other humans whose sexuality is not the same as theirs (but none of their damned business anyway?) Why do so many humans insist on baking fruitcake at Christmas? These are the imponderables that science and philosophy have struggled with for centuries, and nobody has managed to answer them yet.
If you heat the fruitcake to 70C and soak it in 500 ml of rum and 250ml of brandy, then slice it with the 1.5 hp demolition hammer before it sets up again, it is good eating. Fruitcake without booze is almost as bad as hockey or cricket without beer.
Hell, in that case, why not just skip the cake???
You can say “Yesshhh, I’bve had fruitsh today.”
And when the cop pulls you over, you can honestly say, “No, offisher, I habn’t had a drink today. Jusht shshum froot. Cake 0hic).
Truth in Pudding.
So where are you pudding it, Ruth?
No pudding no life.
But the pudding cake must be a lie.
Where is Edward Cullen…no wait, he’s immune to garlic D: Where’s the knife and flaming torch so we can chop ‘im up and set him on fiyah?!
*SPARKLE* *SPARKLE* *SPARKLE*
Most inJoy, Least inEye? Silly me, and I thought it was a restaurant!
I know why it’s been quiet. Have you seen my pet chickens?
I heard a restaurant wanted to make them a deal for their things…
I did see some hens carrying luggage down the street…
I can’t find my Koshi rice flour, cooking sake, or cheap beer. Hmmmmm.
so THAT’S why they crossed the road.
They’re IN the road. And don’t cross them!
I want to relocate to that planet.
A woman doing something with her mouth that doesn’t involve talking
Least annoying, most enjoyable
Women’s faults are many, but men have only two:
Everything they say, and everything they do.
Behind every successful man, there’s a woman,
Telling him he’s wrong.
Do you think she knows where my pet chickens are?
Er, were they likely to have tasted like Lexus? *burrrrrp*
Haha! I ate ice cream there and surprisingly didn’t think of engrish when I saw the sign.
Bet that’s annoying!