...tracking Santa and baking bread.

I'll be honest here in the fact that I've been feeling lazy and run down, especially in the face of the impending Christmas holiday.  It's why I've been lacking in my posts here and have gone mostly on hiatus on SPD until January 4 (with a new Asshat of the Week award to kick off the new year).  Namely, it takes work to keep shit going.  And I have been filled with more of a desire to hack and slash my way through the world of Dungeons and Dragons Online rather than sit up at night and blog. 

I think this shit always happens as the winter cold settles in.  Then, once January hits, I've been cold long enough that I get my fire going. 

But this being Christmas eve, there's no time for fucking around.

I started this morning relatively (8 o'clock hour) late (as the kids didn't get up until after me (and they were due to open gifts this morning!!!)), having time to fill stockings as the kids struggled to come out to see what they had gotten for Christmas.   It was such a lackadaisical response that I had time to get the NORAD Santa tracker (damn, I love the Internet) up before they tore into present one. Then I got them hosed down and shipped off with the Succubus, not to be picked up until I leave work on the way to Christmas lunch at my family's house tomorrow. 

Of course, when I got to work, up went the Santa tracker (as I write this line, he's in Egypt).  It's one of those quirky things that is only possible now due to the fact that we have assloads of information (and porn) at our fingertips.  So I keep tracking him until I conk out tonight.  Naked.

If Santa were real and liked man ass, I'd be a prime target, you know.

But before I take the rectal risk with the invasive nature of Mr Kringle, I must try something that I have never done and which requires a precision that my "throw shit into other shit (but not literal shit)' style of cooking is not known for.  In fact, my baking experiences are generally mixed.  I have cookies (chocolate chip and sugar) down well enough, but my pie baking experiences have been mixed (my apple came out somewhat ok, but pumpkin is beyond my ken).  And I've never tacked anything as fussy as a yeast bread.  And as I don't have a mixer with dough hooks (I might have a dough hook from a broken mixer though), or a bread maker, or even a decent mixer ($5 POS hand mixer), I face a daunting task.  I don't even have a recipe figgered out yet.  And I have under an hour to come up with one (before I get off work and go to the store for ingredients), only tonight to do the mixing proofing and baking, and no backup if I fuck the dog in the process.

Thankfully, my sister does have some crescent rolls she can chuck in the oven and bring tomorrow if chaos ensues.

So I will attempt the otherwise improbable tonight, to bring to the feast tomorrow.

And oh what a feast.  I'm not sure of all the tasty shit that will be produced, but I know that the table will be graced with juicy, bloody, rare, delicious fucking prime fucking rib!!! 

Now I don't get to eat beef (other than burger) all that often as I'm both broke and cheap.  And of cuts of meat, prime rib is one of my favorites, as it is a big-assed piece of meat, cooked low and slow, sliced thick (I like it around the 2-inch mark), and served in juices galore.  Add to that something potato (au gratin, from what I understand), probably shrimp scampi, something green, something sweet, a selection of adult beverages, and my bread (if I don't fuck it up), and there is no chance in hell I'd miss this.

And I get to eat all this after work.  And before work.  Of course, when you make double time for Christmas in exchange for sitting in a call center and getting people to connect shit to shit to watch people squeeze out and eat shit (a rare example of fetish porn that does disgust me), a split shift isn't so bad. 

So I have to return to the daunting task of narrowing down  on a bread recipe, maybe answer another call on Christmas eve (from some irrational fuck that will want their Internet to work NOW!), before I get off, go home, fuck up some bread, and watch A Christmas Story the first time it comes on.  Because that's the only time I have to do so in the next 24 hours.

So let me get back to you when I get some Christmas pics....