Just bring the straight jacket, I’ve got the papers signed.
I had this idea (while I was running—when I am not listening to German lessons, I am thinking about food) to make Christmas cookies with red and green stripes. As if I need more crap to do, I already made one batch of the damn things, and then as I ran, the idea became more and more complex and pretty soon I was making fucking Royal Stewart tartan plaid cookies. The idea, fully formed in my mind, turned out to be a complete freaking horror show. I nearly had a stroke trying to squeeze the dough out of a pastry tip. Eventually I rolled the colored dough out and cut thin strips that promptly fell apart in my hands but still somehow (and not without a great deal of effort) I managed to get one batch of them onto a tray and into the oven.
The color is awful, watermelon and mint, more like Easter than Christmas and the final cookies look like they’re made of Play-doh. Hm, there’s a thought maybe I should get one of those Play-doh machines and run my cookie dough through…ack….SHOOT ME.
I threw out the red and green dough so I wouldn’t be tempted to experiment with it again—really I had a stiff neck and a lower back ache from the torture of it. And then I gave the finished cookies to my mailman. At least I put them in a bag with his name on it and put it in the mailbox. This may be a felony. In any event cookies that look like this ought to be if they aren’t.
Pardon me, I’ve got to go google Play-doh fun factories…