BUSTED!

After a couple months of sparring with my somewhat pretentious English Professor my moment(s) of extreme vindication finally arrived.
He is and was the most conflicted liberal I've ever met.
Professor I-Know-More-Than-You continuously espoused his firm belief that President Obama would ascend to soaring Presidential heights in order to solve all of the world's ills. A Presidential Messiah, if you will.
This would be acceptable in a Government class. However, his breathy exaltations proved annoying when in the context of an English course.
Yet, he and his wife are also extreme Catholic pro-life activists who protested outside of Houston's new Planned Parenthood headquarters where Nancy Pelosi was on hand for the festivities.
He labeled my essay decrying the Obama administration repeal of the Mexico City Act which will funnel taxpayer money into the funding of abortion on an international scale as "bombastic" and "incendiary."
Conflicted, for sure.
Anyway, in a futile attempt to tug at our heartstrings and manipulate our emotions into compassion for struggling students on the campus he always tried to tell us the worst hard luck stories he could muster up.....he could have saved his breath.
Our class was comprised of students working several jobs, going to school and juggling family responsibilities.
We all know that attending college is a choice in which some sacrifices must be made. Therefore, his stories about his students in other classes teetering on the brink of starvation because of their tuition expense or working so hard they found themselves in near fatal car accidents just made most of us roll our eyes.
If those stories are true I think Professor Know-It-All was getting played for a fool by some calculating kids who knew they could milk him for vending machine money and/or an assignment extension.
So, one class period he fires up his propaganda machine and starts telling us the gut-wrenching story of one particularly unfortunate student of his who has been bounced around from foster home to foster home her entire life because her hippie mom abandoned her. She eventually goes to live with her grandma who arranges a much-anticipated reunion with the girl's mom who does show up but lets it slip within the girl's earshot that she only came because the grandma paid her to.
Sound familiar?
It should, because it's the main plot line of the classic book "The Great Gilly Hopkins."
Never one to restrain my thoughts I blurted out to Professor Know-It-All "Hey, by any chance is this girl named Gilly Hopkins?"
I won. I actually transformed a relatively shameless man into a state of embarrassed sheepishness as he strained to immediately change the subject to something else.
Awesome.
I'm positive Professor Know-It-All had previously enraptured countless classes with his harrowing tale of human misery that turned out to be completely fictional.
The moral of the story is to teach your kids not to be beholden to any one person and elevate them to an impossibly high status because for the most part people lie.
People do lie, but I hereby solemnly swear that this post is the honest truth. :)

I Don't Really Know How I Feel About Black & White Marriages

We recently got invited to the wedding reception of a cute young couple whose parents are both in our ward at church.
Their wedding colors are black and white but I think they may have taken their color scheme a bit too far because the bridal registry listed a request for not one but TWO toasters........one black and the other white.
Twas' A Tale Of Two Toasters!
What I can't decide is if this startling appliance move represents a spirit of integration or the atrocity of segregation.
Will the toasters sit side-by-side symbolizing a harmonious yin and yang or will they be forced to perform toasting tasks based solely on color?
All right, all you boxes of toaster treats, let's line it up........Dark Chocolate Pop-Tarts on the left, Vanilla Milkshake Pop-tarts on the right, please.
Perhaps they're wisely anticipating that the newlywed novelty will wear off fairly quickly and they're looking for some cheap thrills and entertainment in the form of toaster races.
Who's toast will get done first? *cue soaring adventure soundtrack music* Find out and see on the all new heart-stopping reality action series "A Watched Toaster Never Pops.....Or Does It?" *swelling ominous music*
There's a real possibility that these two may end up succumbing to the illicit seedy world of illegal toaster gambling.
"I'm putting everything I got on white. Let it ride, baby!!!"
Maybe owning two toasters is just the new status symbol of choice among the whippersnapper set.
Maybe they're saving all the brown, crumbly toaster leavins' in the little trays in hopes of constructing them into a magnificent artistic rendering of their wedding day to hang above the mantel.
Maybe they got stock in the Eggo waffle company as a wedding gift.
Oh, there's so very many possibilities and questions here.
On the plus side though, the happy couple can always "get toasted" together anytime they want.
After all, isn't the sharing of quality time the secret to marital success?
I think it's only apropos that we propose a "toast" to the bride and groom and offer them much toasting happiness for all time and eternity............or however long their toaster warranties last.
Whichever comes first. 

May The Saturated Fat Force Be With You!

If you've ever been remotely curious as to what happened to the original band of 70's era Star Wars geeks, don't worry. 

A paltry few of them actually escaped the dank recesses of their video game-filled Hobbit Holes in their parent's basement and went on to find gainful employment.

Lucky for Kroger's grocery stores and supremely lucky for the rest of humanity, these former George Lucas worshippers found a tailored career fit within the specialized Kroger's Generic Brands Naming Division.

Of course, the days of their youth spent endlessly imitating Master Yoda- swamp swami extraordinaire and model of what happens when a dehydrated kiwi suddenly gains the ability of speech- has inevitably spilled over into their job performance.

These guys have obviously been swatted about the head with a lightsaber a few too many times. (Probably by their wives when asked to put on a Princess Leia costume and neck shackles) Observe the name they chose to christen this knock-off brand of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter:

 

At least we can all be grateful that Kroger's didn't tap into the bevy of Star Trek groupies laying around in their butt-hugger Lycra Enterprise uniforms(those outfits are what caused the real Wrath Of Khan), otherwise we'd end up with product labels and names written solely in the Vulcan language.

According to this online Vulcan dictionary  Butter It's Not would be translated into: 

Rhombolian Qual Se Tu Ri?

Yeah. Although I'd like to assume that Mr. Spock would bypass such artery-clogging fakeries and throw his Vulcan Nation endorsement towards something more apropos like gigantic tubes of  Captain Kirk Crack Ointment- soothing hemorrhoidal cream relief!

This Cake Could Potentially Save Your Life!

So, this weekend I donned my very festive beach-themed apron and magically transformed into The Smiling Infidel Gourmet!

I baked up a delectable treat that's not only the embodiment of chocolate bliss but can also help immunize your entire family against the dastardly Avian Flu. Seriously. Just read this article. Yeah, life-saving cake that you don't even need a prescription or an overseas Internet drug dealer for.

Here's all the ingredients assembled together. You might want to add a hair net to your list because life-saving or not, most people don't care to munch on hair strands embedded amongst the cakey morsels.

Ummmmm, I know it's magnificent, but please stop staring at my sexy red spatula. kthx.
This is the part where you throw everything haphazardly into a shiny metal bowl. Throwing everything around haphazardly- that's where my secret kitchen talent lay.
For this next step you need to have a beefy, steroid-induced bodybuilder on stand-by to break the nearly impenetrable seal on the sauerkraut jar using sheer brute force. Otherwise, you'll be standing there in your kitchen moaning and grunting and panting while trying to loosen up the sauerkraut lid while your husband sits in the next room wondering if you checked out that Joy Of Erotic Cooking cookbook from the library.

You now have the sauerkraut precisely where you want it. The sauerkraut is a prisoner of your cutting board with nowhere to run to and nowhere to hide as you show off your mad knife-wielding skills and hack it into oblivion. You are the master and commander of the kitchen blade. That'll show those mofos over at Benihana Grill for refusing to hire you!
Whenever I use my mixer I like to sing that classic 80's song by The Cars, Shake It Up, only I change the words to "Mix it up, oooh, ooh, mix it up...." This is a very crucial instruction. If you don't encourage and play cheerleader for your mixer, your cake will turn out crappy. Notice that I'm using Libby's brand sauerkraut for my masterpiece. Yeah, Bush's Best sauerkraut just wasn't good enough. Sorry, Bush's. If one day I decide to make a canned baked beans cake, you're in!
Be extremely cautious as you transfer the batter over to the greased-up Bundt cake pan. If you get any batter on you the Police will automatically arrive at your doorstep and haul you away to a battered women's shelter.
Behold........the majestic awesomeness of my SARS-fighting secret weapon, Chocolate Sauerkraut Cake! I like the way it looks covered up in powdered sugar. It gives it a bit of "Walking In A Winter Wonderland" whimsy, don't you think? The mini-Infidels took this to their Homeschool Book Club and nobody could guess the secret ingredient. Nobody! Oh, that sauerkraut is really a genius master of disguise, fooling and deceiving all who get close to it. I'm going to put some on my next IRS audit.

We're not through with the Sauerkraut celebration just yet. The Smiling Infidel Gourmet will soon delve into the exotic wonder of The Passion For Sauerkraut cookbook to bring you the tantalizing recipe for Sauerkraut Custard Pie which is sure to also ward off sickness while delighting your taste buds!

I Wonder If You Can Buy Life Insurance Policies At The Dollar Store Too?

In a fit of forced frugality this week, I went shopping at our local 99 Cents Only Store to lasso up some provisions to satisfy the voracious appetites of my lovely little Infidel Family.

Now, I don't mind denying us fancy designer labels when it comes to clothes. Banana Republic? No, not for us. We shop at their discount retailer, Red-Banded Bananas Republic ( Proudly Selling Fruit Fly Free Merch. since 2007!) But, I'm kind of a brand name snob when it involves our food. So then to what did my money-saving eyes should appear, but boxes of artificial butter with a product name to fear.
TASTES LIKE BUTTER! Ooooh, it tastes like butter, but what the crap is it, really?

A moment of grandiose epiphany tugged at my brain, startling me. And then I realized that I could embark on a new career coming up with label names for dollar store grocery items. The Dollar Store industry does represent an astronomical rate of growth. In certain markets, they hold a larger share of the grocery sales pie than even traditional chain stores like Kroger's. Tell me what you think of these tasty little treats and your likelihood of picking it up just based on the sweet box design and intriguing product name.
IT MIGHT BE BACON!
KIND OF, SORT OF, LIKE CHEESE!
USED TO BE A COW! Frozen Hamburger Patties
SMELLS LIKE BURRITOS!
ARE YOU READY TO FUNK THIS JELLY? Beyonce Brand Jam
LOOKS LIKE YOGURT!
POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME! Porn Star Endorsed Sugar
WAFFLE-SHAPED WAFFLES!
I CAN'T BELIEVE IT DIDN'T COME FROM A CHICKEN! Eggs

You shouldn't try any of these items without first purchasing the Dollar Store brand of upset stomach medicine.....DIARRHEA BE GONE!

Have You Ever Noticed That Butter Has The Word BUTT In It?

I'll admit it.......I'm a hater. An acronym hater, that is. Don't worry, my hate doesn't include worthwhile organizations like the (HarperValley)PTA, PTO, DARE, LDS, DEA, CIA, CSI, and the IRS. Wait a minute, I guess I do hate the acronym IRS and all that it stands for. No, rather, I'm referring to Net Speak and the sinister acronym abuse that's creeping into our English vernacular and all forms of computer correspondence. I know a lady who peppers each and every one of her homeschool group and personal e-mails with an abundance of random and irrelevant 'LOL's!!!!' as far as the eye can see. Example: "So which curriculum is everybody using this year for their DD and DS?LOL!!!!" What does that say about us homeschoolers to any and all who would read such drivel? I'll tell you what it says, that homeschooling moms remain ensconced at a mentality level that would rival a giggling teenager. Furthermore, if people really LOL'ed and ROFL'ed as much as they claim, they'd need some serious psychiatric intervention. No offense to the very funny bloggers around here, but you've never actually made me Roll On The Floor Laughing. The scriptures tell us 'everything in moderation,' and that should definitely extend to frivolous acronym usage as well. I've always wondered how this acronym craziness on the computer came about, and then I saw my receipt from Kroger's yesterday and I was like, WTH? Look closely, it reveals conclusively that you can catch the LOL syndrome from LOL butter. My mom must have vaccinated me in my youth against the detrimental effects of LOL butter, because so many good people I know seem to suffer from it while I remain immune.
Just a warning that you need to avoid this butter at all costs if you desire to follow down a rosy, acronym-free path for the rest of your life. The fat free version probably rings up as LMAO since you can Laugh Out Loud all day while floating high on LOL butter, but if you're serious about reducing the size of your butt, you need to eat the fat free LMAO or Laughing My Arse Off butter substitute.