Thanksgiving for the :corner:s
#16
Cheese Grits and/or Corn Souffle
I'd never pollute my mother's potatoes with gravy. She already whips them up with enough Neufchatel cheese, green onions, garlic, bacon, and sour cream to make them quite good on their own.
I'd never pollute my mother's potatoes with gravy. She already whips them up with enough Neufchatel cheese, green onions, garlic, bacon, and sour cream to make them quite good on their own.
#18
i just mix it all together in my mouf. First I undo the button of my pants, or forego the pants altogether.
Then i start a shoveling.
Then I sit on the couch and watch football and hope not to vomit and aspirate and do a Jimi Hendrix.
Then i start a shoveling.
Then I sit on the couch and watch football and hope not to vomit and aspirate and do a Jimi Hendrix.
#19
For many years, when my family got together, we'd sit down and get to some eating. . .
We'd shovel our first plate high with salad. . . with ham strips, devilled eggs, beats, cheeses, and let it just soak in ranch dressing.
Then we'd have all kinds of meat. . . piled high, ribs in buckets, chicken croquettes. . . you name it.
For potatoes, we'd have mashed, smashed, fried, au gratin. . . ohhhh yeah.
Then for dessert, we'd have 4-5 pies, a la mode, cookies and cakes. . . the dessert selection was huge.
After it all, we'd undo our belts and just pass out right in our chairs. If you had a few too many beers, you might just up chuck it all. . . didn't matter whatever you felt like.
We'd be happy, and full. . .
. . . then the manager of The Sizzler would tell us to get the **** out.
We'd shovel our first plate high with salad. . . with ham strips, devilled eggs, beats, cheeses, and let it just soak in ranch dressing.
Then we'd have all kinds of meat. . . piled high, ribs in buckets, chicken croquettes. . . you name it.
For potatoes, we'd have mashed, smashed, fried, au gratin. . . ohhhh yeah.
Then for dessert, we'd have 4-5 pies, a la mode, cookies and cakes. . . the dessert selection was huge.
After it all, we'd undo our belts and just pass out right in our chairs. If you had a few too many beers, you might just up chuck it all. . . didn't matter whatever you felt like.
We'd be happy, and full. . .
. . . then the manager of The Sizzler would tell us to get the **** out.