Greetings, somebody!
So one of the great pleasures in being what one might consider "nerdy," "unique," a "black sheep," whatever; is tracing these allegations and accusations back to their roots and blaming your social awkwardness on someone else. You made me this way, maternal and paternal units! And in investigating endeavors, I discovered a horrifying bit of anthropology.
Two things that I love dearly are a) history and b) 80s nostalgia (if you don't admit to loving at least one of these, you're lying to yourself and the rest of us, and deserve to be burninated at the stake), which is why you can imagine my delight and finding a decrepit cookbook, covered in stains and dust, older than I am, with recipes fitting for a show that we all remember:
The Beverly Motherfucking Hillbillies. Let me also add that, disaster that I am, I'm a terrible cook, but this is strangely inspiring. ...Or maybe that inspirational feeling is just the vomit creeping up the back of my throat.
Click the jump for recipes for... well, for the resourceful, then hit me up and let me know if you're down to come over for dinner tonight.
Yea, this is accurate.
