The fryer is definitely the answer here. Coat enough cornstarch and flour on the outside of these things and no one will be able to tell what the base quality of the meat is. This is the third time in as many weeks that Susie has messed up the kitchen order, and JJ sure won’t let me plead her off again. It’s my fault, anyway – I’m her boyfriend, I should be checking the stuff she does to make sure it’s perfect and she isn’t going to get in trouble. She didn’t show up till 4pm yesterday but she looked so sad and tan in her white uniform that I could barely question her second flat tire this month. I don’t even know where on the chicken this meat came from but it’s real bloody, so I think basting it in some BBQ sauce is the best start, then serve it in chunks of bleu cheese dressing to the guys and on salads to the women. The club golf tournament is this weekend, so hopefully they’re all be so drunk from spending the day inhaling beers on the greens that no one will have the capacity to question the chicken, Susie, or what she’s doing with someone like me.
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- The Huntington Ladies’ Book Club – February Meeting
- Pickle the Cheetah
- Karen the Personal Trainer
- Morton the Worm at the Usury Office
- My 5 Favorite Musicals and Why, By Carla Cioca:
- Mumu the Irrelevant Mime
- Tiny Tim – Post Revisted
- Ten Prior Moments that led Jenna to this Point:
- The O. Henry Affair
- Ben’s Night Out